Exercising an Option
by mindmelda
Summary: AU, Takes place at an exclusive spa. Various pairings. See warnings.
1. Chapter One

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Melton Genre: Romance, Action Pairings: 5+S, 3+4, 2+1, 13+6 Warnings: AU, Lemony, eventually. Rating: R Archived:  
  
AN: Disclaimer-I don't own the Gundam Wing characters. I merely dream about them occasionally. This fic is based on a plot bunny from Misty Yuy, so I'm dedicating it to her.)  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"So, I'm supposed to be impressed?" asked Sally, flipping back her long honey-colored braids.  
  
"I assume so," Trieze smirked, casually leaning upon his desk.  
  
"I hate prima donnas," she groaned, shaking her head. "Well, when he wants San Pellegrino water with one perfect slice of lemon, I'll stick his damn head in the toilet."  
  
Trieze chuckled. "Oh, his representatives assured me he doesn't expect special treatment. He wants to be treated like everyone else. He's coming here to recuperate from an accident, and they want it all very low key."  
  
"Yeah right," Sally said, wiping the sweat of the last training session off of her neck.  
  
"We'll see how long that lasts. You know Hollywood types."  
  
"We've had celebrities here before," said Treize. "Don't worry about it. If you don't want to deal with him, I'll assign Zechs to him."  
  
"Are you saying that I can't handle some Jet Li wanna-be stunt man with a chip on his shoulder?"  
  
"Sally, let's just say that sometimes your social skills are less than smooth."  
  
"You mean I tell it like it is," retorted Sally.  
  
"Besides, you're my best personal trainer, and you're a licensed physical therapist." Trieze never begged, but this was as close as he got.  
  
"Okay, I'll do it," sighed Sally. "But, I want a bonus."  
  
"Done," said Trieze, "Don't ever say I don't know how to win an argument," he purred at her.  
  
"Oh, go screw yourself," said Sally, laughing at him.  
  
"Are you implying that I can't get laid?" asked the owner of the spa with an elegantly arched brow.  
  
"Not by me," said Sally. "I never mix business with pleasure."  
  
"You're not my type," said Trieze, "You lack certain, um, attributes I find desirable."  
  
"Like a dick?" teased Sally.  
  
"Do you have to be so crude?" Trieze sighed.  
  
"Probably," said Sally. "I find it helps to keep you off guard a little."  
  
"I'll remember that," he said to her.  
  
"I've got another session in 45 minutes, so I'm hitting the shower."  
  
"Wear something nice tomorrow," suggested Trieze.  
  
"This is nice," protested Sally. "I'm not going to run out and buy a new exercise outfit just to impress some jerk, okay?"  
  
"But, it's olive green," Trieze said, shuddering.  
  
"I like green," said Sally defiantly. "I look good in green. It was good enough in the army, I'm used to it."  
  
"Very well, I give up," the redhaired man said. "Some people just have no fashion sense."  
  
"Some people have too much," said Sally. "You're cutting into my shower time."  
  
"Go then, we wouldn't want you to offend the clients."  
  
Sally walked toward the women's showers, rubbing her sweaty hair with the towel.  
  
"I should have listened to my mother and become a librarian," she muttered to herself as she started to pull off her sweaty workout clothes inside the locker room.  
  
But, working for Trieze at the Green Mountain Spa here in Montana wasn't so bad, she thought. It was beautiful here near the hot springs, and Sally had always enjoyed the mountains.  
  
After her hitch in the army as a medic, she hadn't had that many options for employment anyway. She'd worked in a big city hospital a few months, and the pace of large Houston hospital and the city had made her insane. The ad for a physical therapist at the remote spa had caught her eye in a body building magazine. Somewhere she could apply her medical training and try out a slower paced, more laid back lifestyle.  
  
The Green Mountain Spa was luxuriously appointed, and was a favorite getaway for wealthy types who enjoyed believing they were "roughing it" in the great outdoors. Nothing could be farther from the truth. It was a place to be pampered, if that's what you wanted. People came to be massaged, exercised and herbal wrapped into oblivion, if they could afford it.  
  
Sally tended to work with injured professional athletes, because of her abilities as a physical therapist. Rehabilitating them had become her specialty, and wealthy pros lined up for her services.  
  
"A stunt man," she thought. "This will be a first for me."  
  
Not just any stunt man, but Sally had been told this guy was the best. Martial arts movies were hot right now, and Chang Wufei was a stunt man and instructor to the Hollywood elite.  
  
"Bruce Lee wannabe," thought Sally, smirking as she changed into clean workout clothes.  
  
"Hey, I hear you scored the VIP in tomorrow," said Lucrezia Noin, opening her locker and taking out a towel.  
  
"Yeah, lucky me," said Sally. "Somebody up there hates me."  
  
Noin laughed her husky laugh. "I'll take him off your hands if you don't want him, I hear he's hot and hetero."  
  
"I'd love to, but I was requested," said Sally. "My damned reputation proceeds me, apparently."  
  
"Ah, too bad," said Noin, facetiously. "What's wrong with you girl? Most women would be offering their right arm to spend a week with some celebrity."  
  
"Apparently, I'm not most women," said Sally dryly.  
  
"Besides, I'm here to work, not improve my social life."  
  
"You have a social life?" teased Noin.  
  
"Occasionally," said Sally. "Being a single mother doesn't give me lots of time to cat around like some people." She cut her eyes knowingly at Noin, who laughed again.  
  
"Yeah, I guess you have more to think about than just having a good time," said Noin. "How is the kid, anyway?"  
  
"He's great," said Sally. "Misses his dad, but I can't help that."  
  
"No, although you certainly don't have some of the issues my divorced friends deal with," said Noin.  
  
"Being a widow at 28 is not what I imagined my life would be," said Sally.  
  
"Car accident, wasn't it?" asked Noin.  
  
"Yes," said Sally. "Drunk driver. The usual sad story." She finished re- braiding her hair in silence.  
  
"Sorry, hon," said Noin, "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."  
  
"It's the good memories that are the worst," said Sally, smiling faintly to put her friend at ease.  
  
"I've got to get going," said Sally, finishing her hair quickly.  
  
"Say hi to Matt for me," said Noin.  
  
"I will, it makes him feel grown up when I tell him hello from you," said Sally.  
  
"He's a cute kid."  
  
"He has a crush on you."  
  
"Oh, if only he were 20 years older," sighed Noin.  
  
"If he were, I'd sic him on you," said Sally, as she left out the locker room door and went to find some lunch at the spa's kitchen.  
  
"What's good, Hilde?" she asked the kitchen's chef.  
  
"Chicken breasts with Soo Moy Jung sauce," said Hilde.  
  
"Sounds good," said Sally.  
  
"Make me one too, babe," said a familiar voice behind her.  
  
"Duo, I thought you were working through lunch," said Hilde.  
  
"I got a cancellation, sis," said Duo. "Couple scheduled a massage and then decided to go horseback riding first." He shrugged.  
  
"So, you're going to be working with the famous stuntman Chang," said Duo.  
  
"He's just another guest, Duo," said Sally, taking her plate and sitting down in the employee lunch area.  
  
"I've seen all his movies," said Duo, between large bites of rice and chicken. "Of course, it's some actor taking the credit for his moves, but still very cool."  
  
"I'll suggest daily massage as part of his therapy so you can drool on him," said Sally.  
  
"He's not into guys," said Duo with mock sadness. "But I guess I can drool discreetly in a non-sexual manner."  
  
"There's nothing discreet about you," said Hilde, coming over with her own plate.  
  
"I guess not," said Duo, reaching over and trying to steal a slice of pineapple from Hilde's plate. She smacked his hand.  
  
"No manners either," she said. They ate for a while in companionable silence.  
  
"Well, I came, I inhaled, I belched, so I'm on my way to rub someone else the right way." He snickered.  
  
"See you later," said Sally. "I was serious about the massage thing."  
  
"I wonder if he'd look disdainfully at me if I asked for an autograph?" asked Duo.  
  
"I'll soften him up for you," said Sally. "Although I do not comprehend this sort of idolatry at all."  
  
"You're a true friend," said Duo. "I'll give you free massages for life if you get an autograph for me."  
  
"I get those anyway."  
  
"Oh, right," said Duo. "I'll give you something of Hilde's then. Her firstborn, or something."  
  
"Duo!" said Hilde, throwing a piece of fruit at him. He caught it and popped it into his mouth. "Thanks, sis, must go." He left at a jog, his long braided hair slapping against his blue jeans.  
  
"Your brother is a nut, you know that," said Sally to Hilde.  
  
"Yeah, I know," said Hilde. "He grows on you, though." She grinned at Sally. "Thanks for pulling a few strings with Trieze and getting him this job, he's a lot happier now."  
  
"Hell, when you told me about that creep he was living with in California, I had to do something to help you get him a job somewhere else."  
  
"Drunken asshole," said Hilde, her features tightening with anger. "He deserves someone better than that."  
  
"Hey, don't we all," said Sally, finishing her plate. "I gotta run too, Hilde. You and Duo come over this weekend, Matt would love to see you both."  
  
"We'll do that," said Hilde, smiling.  
  
"Looking forward to tomorrow?" asked Hilde.  
  
Sally rolled her eyes. "Not really," she said. "I'm really not wild about celebrity clients, they can be a total pain in the ass, Hilde, you know that."  
  
"Well, if anyone can handle him, you can," said Hilde. "Being a former lieutenant in the army ought to be good for something."  
  
"Yeah, too bad I can't throw people in the stockade anymore," said Sally, grinning evilly.  
  
"You look much too cheerful when you say that," said Hilde, laughing. 


	2. Chapter Two

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Melton Genre: Romance Pairings: 5+S, 13+6, 1+2, 3+4 Warnings: AU, Language, Shounen-ai, Citrus Rating: R Archived:  
  
Chapter 2  
  
"Quit fussing over me, or you're fired," snapped Wufei, said to the blond man who was handing him a bottle of water. "You're my manager, not my mother."  
  
"You can't fire me," said Quatre, "I have an iron clad contract. Just ask your lawyer."  
  
"He does," said the dark haired man Quatre had indicated with a jerk of his chin.  
  
"Whose side are you on anyway?" Wufei asked him, glaring. The glare was returned with interest. "Mine."  
  
"Kill all the lawyers," muttered Wufei.  
  
"I heard that," said Heero Yuy. "As your lawyer, I wouldn't recommend it."  
  
"Not that you're up to kicking much ass at the moment," said a taller, auburn haired man, coming back into the seating compartment of the private plane.  
  
"Please, don't remind me, Trowa" groaned Wufei. "I still can't believe we screwed the pooch on that stunt. I'm just relieved you didn't get hurt too. I would have sworn we checked that rig at least 3 times." He ground his teeth in frustration.  
  
"I'm glad you didn't permanently fuck up your shoulder," said Trowa. "I've taken a few spills myself doing stunts, but that was the all time wonder how the hell you walked away from it trick of all time."  
  
"Your insurance people are screaming as it is," said Quatre. "One more of those, and I won't be able to get you insured at any price."  
  
"We'll just sic Heero on them," said Trowa. "He'd scare a hungry wolf off a dead carcass."  
  
"I'll have that printed on my business cards," said Heero, not looking up from his laptop.  
  
"Do you ever turn that damned thing off?" asked Wufei, pointing at the platinum covered electronic device Heero was typing away at.  
  
"No," said Heero. "Don't bother me, I'm negotiating the last details of the settlement from the studio."  
  
"Going for the jugular," said Quatre, shaking his head.  
  
"That's why he looks so happy," said Trowa dryly, totally deadpan.  
  
"I don't know if Heero does a happy face," said Quatre, grinning at the auburn haired Latin man.  
  
"I don't even want to know what makes him happy," said Wufei. "Too scary to think about."  
  
Heero ignored them as usual and continued typing.  
  
"I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm looking forward to a little time off at this spa. Where is it again?" asked Quatre.  
  
He loosened his navy blue tie and vest and leaned back in the first class seat, kicking off his loafers. Trowa glanced over at him and smiled faintly. Quatre was wiggling his toes, sighing and tousling his pale shaggy hair. It gave him a boyish air that was quite misleading, as Trowa well knew.  
  
"Green Mountain, Montana," said Trowa. "Very out of the way. Hot springs, supposed to be very private, very beautiful back country. We'll be pretty much incognito."  
  
"Sounds great," said Wufei, exhaling. "I'm so tired of ass kissers and deal mongers."  
  
"Hey," said Quatre, with a pained expression. "You're talking about my favorite people."  
  
Trowa snickered. "You need to start hanging out in the clean world, sweetie," he said. "You poor deprived thing."  
  
"Someone has to do it," said Quatre shrugging. "And, I'm damn good at what I do." He grinned.  
  
"That's because you're so blasted innocent looking, no one suspects anything until you've got them stripped down to their shorts," said Wufei.  
  
"Whatever works," said Quatre, his grin turning evil. "Right, Tro?"  
  
"I'm admitting nothing without my attorney present," said Trowa, pretending to look at a magazine.  
  
"I'm here," said Heero, looking up briefly. "I advise you to get a prenup."  
  
Quatre laughed.  
  
"Oh, come on," said Wufei. "I know you only came along so you can play kissy face with my stunt coordinator," he said to Quatre. "And get me to pay for it."  
  
"Interesting how that worked out," said Quatre, yawning widely and putting his seat back. "Wake me up when we get to this Montana place, Tro," he said, falling asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes.  
  
"They're so cute when they're asleep," said Trowa, pulling a blanket over the other man, and giving him a light kiss on the cheek.  
  
"You ought to rest too," said Heero to Wufei. "It's only been a few days since you got out of the hospital."  
  
"Now you're doing it," complained Wufei. "I'm perfectly fine."  
  
"Yes, but if you don't listen to me," said Heero levelly. "I'll break the other arm."  
  
"Stick with law, Heero," said Trowa, stretching out his long legs and putting his head back. "You suck as a nurse."  
  
"My next lawyer won't have a black belt in Karate," said Wufei, but he laid his seat back and closed his eyes.  
  
"We should be there in about 2 hours," said Heero.  
  
"Good, I really need some peace and quiet," said Wufei, wearily.  
  
"You need a life," said Heero.  
  
"Don't we all," said Wufei cryptically. He looked over at Trowa and Quatre, apparently asleep in their adjoining seats.  
  
"At least they look happy."  
  
Heero continued typing for a second, then looked up briefly frowning.  
  
Reluctantly, he closed the laptop, and put it in his briefcase.  
  
"I bet you can't keep that closed for the next two weeks," said Wufei, opening one eye.  
  
"I bet I can," said Heero. "Try me."  
  
"You're on," said Wufei. 


	3. Chapter Three

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Melton Genre: Romance, Action Pairings: 5+S, 3+4, 1+2, 13+6 Warnings: Citrus, Language, Shounen-ai Rating: R Archived: SE_Updates  
  
Chapter 3  
  
The small airport in Butte, Montana was packed with entertainment press reps. Wufei, Heero, Trowa and finally Quatre disembarked from the private plane, blinking in the bright summer sunshine.  
  
"Allah, look at them," said Quatre, muttering a curse in Arabic that made Trowa grin. "Vultures come to the feast.  
  
"Nothing you can't handle," said Wufei, looking bored. "I'm not talking to anyone, get rid of these pests."  
  
"Time to earn my 10%," said Quatre, straightening his tie and raking a hand through his blond locks.  
  
Trowa went to make sure the bags were being loaded properly.  
  
"Want to help me, Heero?" asked Quatre, glancing over at the other man as they made a physical shield between Wufei and the herd of reporters coming towards them.  
  
"I could shoot them," said Heero casually, reaching under his tailored dark gray silk jacket.  
  
"You're kidding, right?" asked Quatre, licking his lower lip nervously.  
  
"I was a private detective before I went to law school," said Heero. "I never leave home without packing."  
  
"You're one scary bastard," said Quatre. "Remind me never to piss you off."  
  
Heero smirked and stuck his hand back in his pants pocket.  
  
The rabble neared.  
  
"Mr. Winner, when will Wufei be able to go back to work?" asked a female reporter wearing a short tight red suit, her dark hair short and spiky.  
  
"Hi, Miranda, I can't believe they sent you all the way out here just to get a little story like this," Quatre smiled at the woman, flashing white teeth.  
  
"I've been a bad girl," said Miranda. Most of the other reporters laughed.  
  
"All I can say is what we told you at the press conference in LA, Miranda. The doctors want Mr.Chang to rest and rehab for 3 months. That's why we're here."  
  
"Why such an out of the way place?" asked an older balding man, licking the end of his pencil.  
  
"To avoid undue publicity," said Quatre, his voice ironic. Everyone laughed again.  
  
"How is this injury going to affect Mr. Chang's career?" asked another older woman with a blond pageboy.  
  
"Mr. Chang is expected to make a full recovery, and go back to work in 6 months on his new film," said Quatre. "So, not much. The surgery he had to repair his torn ligaments and the rotator cuff on his right arm was done by one of the country's best orthopedic surgeons, and he gave Mr. Chang an excellent prognosis."  
  
There was a murmur among the reporters as they made their notes.  
  
"Well, if that's everything, we have a car waiting for us," said Quatre.  
  
"One more question," said a male voice from the back of the pack, an arm frantically waving.  
  
"Okay, one more," said Quatre, frowning, checking his watch in an obvious fashion to hurry things along.  
  
"I wanted to ask Mr. Chang how he feels about the dangers in stunt work, now that he's been seriously injured. We all know his wife died only a few short years ago in a similar incident, and what are his thoughts on the subject?"  
  
Quatre felt both Heero and Wufei stiffen beside him.  
  
"I really can't answer for Mr. Chang about that," said Quatre in a monotone. "And Mr. Chang isn't answering questions today, I'm sorry. He needs his rest, doctor's orders."  
  
Quatre smiled politely, and folded his arms with an air of finality.  
  
Trowa walked back toward the three other men. "Is there a problem?" he asked carefully, looking at Wufei's tight face.  
  
"Let's get the fuck out of here," Wufei said between clenched teeth.  
  
"Sounds good to me," said Trowa, "All right, everyone, move out!" he said, raising his voice to the small assemblage.  
  
"Show's over!"  
  
"I'm sorry Wufei, I had no idea that moron was going to ask something like that," said Quatre as they walked briskly past the remaining reporters.  
  
"Not your fault," said Wufei. "I'm tired, and I just want to get where we're supposed to be." He unconsciously placed his uninjured arm over the one held firmly in the brace he was wearing on his right arm and shoulder.  
  
Quatre looked at his watch again. "You need something for pain?" he asked Wufei.  
  
"I'll be all right until we get there," said Wufei. "Last thing I need is someone seeing me popping a damn pill in public. Tomorrow, the tabloids will be telling everyone I'm a drug addict."  
  
Trowa shook his head, "I don't know how the media found us, this is supposed to be as out of the way as it gets."  
  
"There is no such thing," said Quatre. "There's the van to take us to the spa," he said, pointing.  
  
A long, dark green van with "Green Mountain Spa" in white letters on the side was parked in front of the loading zone. Their luggage was being put in by the back by airport baggage handlers.  
  
"That must be our driver," said Trowa, pointing to a medium built guy with long braided hair, wearing blue jeans, hiking boots, a black t-shirt and a green jacket with the spa's logo on the back, who was talking to the luggage attendants.  
  
Quatre walked over and put out a hand.  
  
"I'm Quatre Winner, Mr. Chang's manager," he said. "You're here to pick us up?"  
  
"That's right," said Duo, taking the offered hand in a warm grip.  
  
"I'm Duo," he said. "I'm not the regular driver, he's sick today, so I'm filling in."  
  
"Oh, what do you usually do?" asked Quatre, as Duo opened the doors of the van for the group.  
  
"Massage therapist," he said, shortly. "You need any help there?" he asked Wufei, offering a hand.  
  
"No thank you," said Wufei curtly, brushing past everyone to climb into the van.  
  
"Sorry," muttered Duo, withdrawing his hand.  
  
"Don't mind him," said Trowa, near Duo's ear. Duo jumped a little. "He's just in pain, the plane trip was harder on him than he'll admit."  
  
"And you are?" asked Duo, turning to see who had spoken to him.  
  
"Trowa Barton, I'm Mr. Chang's stunt coordinator, and his friend."  
  
"Nice to meet ya," said Duo. "I'm Duo Maxwell."  
  
"Who's the other guy?" he asked Trowa.  
  
"Heero Yuy, Wufei's lawyer," said Trowa.  
  
"He brings his lawyer with him?" asked Duo, eyes widening.  
  
"They're friends, were in the army together a few years back," said Trowa.  
  
"Oh," said Duo. He was openly sizing up the slim dark-haired man in the gray silk suit.  
  
"Friend of yours too?" he asked in an overly casual tone.  
  
"Depends on what you mean by 'friend'," said Trowa, looking squarely at Duo.  
  
"Sorry, I'm being kind of nosey, huh?" asked Duo, grinning disarmingly.  
  
"Not really," said Trowa. "He's uninvolved, if that's what you're asking."  
  
"Geez, you get right to the point," said Duo, pulling a green baseball cap down on his head, and sliding into the driver's seat, and snapping on a pair of sunglasses. "Am I that freakin' obvious?"  
  
"Pretty much," said Trowa, grinning faintly. "And just for the record, I AM involved." He made a gesture with his head towards Quatre, who was leaning forward discussing something with Wufei, sitting next to Heero. Wufei looked more irritable with each passing minute.  
  
"Message received and understood," said Duo, grinning again and giving Trowa a mocking salute.  
  
Trowa climbed inside of the van and sat down next to Quatre in the back seat.  
  
"Welcome to Montana," said Duo, looking behind him and settling his sunglasses down on his nose.  
  
"How long is our drive to Green Mountain?" asked Quatre, from the back seat.  
  
"About an hour," said Duo.  
  
"You need to take your medication now," said Quatre to Wufei, handing him a pill and a bottle of water.  
  
"I can wait," said Wufei stubbornly.  
  
"No you can't," said Quatre, sticking out his chin. "It's time, and I told the doctor I'd make sure you took your meds."  
  
"Just take the goddamn pill, Chang, or I'll insert it rectally," said Heero, after a few seconds, breaking the stand off.  
  
Trowa snickered. "He'll do it, too, Wufei, better get it down."  
  
Wufei grumbled something about his dignity being violated under his breath and took the pill, swallowing a long drink of water with it.  
  
"Everyone happy now?" he asked, settling back in the seat and closing his eyes.  
  
"I'm delirious," said Heero in a sarcastic monotone.  
  
"Try to get some rest," said Quatre solicitously to Wufei. "It's been a long trip. I can tell you're in pain, you're just too stubborn to admit it."  
  
"There's some nice sites on the way there," said Duo, helpfully. "This is gorgeous country, so just enjoy the ride."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. um, Duo, wasn't it?" asked Quatre.  
  
"Yeah," said Duo. "Duo Maxwell."  
  
"How long have you lived here?" said Quatre, making conversation.  
  
"Two years," said Duo. "I lived in LA before that."  
  
"Oh, so you're from our part of the country," said Quatre.  
  
"Originally," said Duo. "I like it here now. I don't know if I could go back to the city."  
  
"Don't you miss it?" asked Quatre.  
  
"Not now," said Duo. "It was a change at the beginning, but I'm used to the slower pace here now."  
  
"Any particular reason you moved here?" asked Quatre.  
  
"My sister works at the spa and got me a job there," said Duo. "She's the chef."  
  
"Oh, I see," said Quatre, sensing a certain evasiveness in the man's answer.  
  
"So, work brought you here?" he pressed.  
  
"Personal reasons, too," said Duo, trying to think of a tactful way to change the subject.  
  
"Look, see that over there?" he pointed, one still hand on the wheel.  
  
"What are those?" asked Trowa, looking at the flashes of sienna colored fur running away from them. "Deer?"  
  
"No, they're pronghorn antelope," said Duo. "Actually, a species of wild goat native to the west."  
  
"Really?" asked Trowa, craning his head to look out of the windows. "Never seen one before. They're fast!"  
  
"They're the fastest animal on the North American continent," said Duo. "They can run up to 40 miles an hour in short bursts."  
  
"Amazing," said Heero, looking too.  
  
"You're quite a tour guide, Duo," said Quatre.  
  
"I just like to talk," said Duo. "If I yak on too much, please tell me to shut up, everyone does sooner or later."  
  
"No, that was interesting," said Wufei, speaking for the first time.  
  
"Thanks," said Duo.  
  
"What are those?" asked Trowa, pointing out of the window again.  
  
"Coyotes," said Duo. "They have those in California, too, but you don't see them much in the city. They're not crazy about people."  
  
"I've heard them," said Heero. "Out in the valleys."  
  
"They're scavengers," said Duo. "And, they hunt rodents and other small animals. We'd be overrun with mice and gophers, otherwise."  
  
"What other animals live here?" asked Trowa.  
  
"Cougar, wolf, black bear, grizzly bear, elk, moose, deer, of course," said Duo. "Big Horn sheep, and mountain goats."  
  
"There are wolves?" asked Quatre.  
  
"They're rare, an endangered species," said Duo. "And they fear humans. You'd be very lucky to glimpse one."  
  
"I wouldn't call that lucky," said Quatre.  
  
Everyone chuckled.  
  
"Just how rustic is this spa?" asked Wufei, the strain in his features was beginning to recede as his pain medication kicked in.  
  
"Not at all," said Duo. "It's pretty ritzy. The boss wouldn't have it any other way. He's not local he's from Europe, Swiss. He owned a ski resort in the Alps, but decided to come here and open the spa."  
  
"Afraid I was dooming you to bunkbeds and beans in the bush?" asked Quatre, snickering at Wufei.  
  
"No, but I've roughed it before, so I'm not worried," said Wufei. "Heero and I were in the army, and Trowa here was raised by circus people. We haven't always been in the swank like some people." He cut his glance archly to Quatre.  
  
Quatre raised a brow at him. "I can't help it if I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth." He pouted slightly.  
  
"Yeah, well, I was born with a plastic fork in my ass," said Trowa, making Duo, Quatre and Wufei laugh out loud, and Heero chuckle.  
  
"What is it you do again?" Heero asked Duo, who took off his billed cap and put it on the dashboard to ruffle his bangs.  
  
"Massage therapist," said Duo.  
  
"You're not the driver?" asked Wufei.  
  
"No," said Duo, explaining again. "I'm just filling in for the regular guy, he's sick."  
  
"What kind of massage?" asked Quatre.  
  
"Mostly therapeutic, I work with the physical therapist Mr. Chang came to see, Ms. Po."  
  
"What's she like?" asked Quatre.  
  
"I like her a lot," said Duo, deliberately vague. "She's good at what she does, direct, positive. Good looking too."  
  
"Are you her boyfriend?" asked Quatre, grinning.  
  
"No, we're just friends," said Duo. "She and my sister have been friends for a while, too. We'll be there in a about five minutes, so you'll see for yourself."  
  
A large castle-like structure of massive logs, glass, and river rock was seen in the distance.  
  
"That's it," said Duo, pointing.  
  
"Impressive looking," said Quatre. "Fits the surroundings, very bold, primeval, yet elegant."  
  
"It's something," agreed Duo, thinking he could be describing Trieze.  
  
"Wufei needs to rest," said Quatre. "Can we do this quickly?" he asked as they drove up to the entrance.  
  
"I'll manage," said Wufei. "I'm feeling okay right now."  
  
"You haven't won one argument with him so far," said Heero to Wufei. "Give up."  
  
"Not my style," said Wufei, as Heero helped him out of the van.  
  
Trowa inhaled deeply. "Wow, invisible air," he said.  
  
"It makes me nervous to breathe something I can't see," said Quatre, looking around.  
  
"You'll get used to it," said Trowa. "I forgot what it's like to see green and blue everywhere."  
  
"Okay, nature boy," said Quatre, "Let's go check in. We can site see later." He grabbed Trowa's arm and pulled him inside the large double wooden doors at the entrance.  
  
"Nice," said Trowa, walking into the lobby, seeing the copper chandeliers, the open beams, huge river rock fireplace, and log railings.  
  
"I'm so glad you approve," said an arresting voice with a faint accent behind them.  
  
"I'm Trieze Khushrenada, the owner," said the tall, red-haired man.  
  
"I'm Quatre Winner, Mr. Chang's manager," said Quatre, extending his hand. "This is Mr. Barton, his assistant, and Mr. Yuy, his attorney."  
  
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," said Trieze smoothly. "I understand Mr. Chang may wish to rest after your long journey, so I had your luggage taken up right away. Please, make yourself at home."  
  
"Thank you," said Quatre. "We are a little tired. It's a bit of a ride out here, but beautiful country."  
  
"Isn't it?" said Trieze. A man with stunning platinum hair reaching to his waist came over. "May I introduce Zechs Marquise, my partner," he said.  
  
"Business partner?" asked Heero.  
  
"Business and pleasure," said Trieze in a silky voice, and Zechs held out a hand. "I'm part owner of the spa, yes," he explained.  
  
"Glad to know you," said Trowa, shaking hands.  
  
"I'm going to find my room," said Heero, ignoring the offered hands.  
  
He went up to the front desk with his briefcase and laptop, and came back in a minute with a key.  
  
"See you later," he said to Wufei.  
  
"You must forgive him," said Wufei. "Heero is an old friend, but he was raised by wolves."  
  
Trieze smiled graciously. "Zechs and I hope to have the pleasure of your company at dinner, Mr. Chang. And your charming friends, of course."  
  
Wufei nodded. "Of course," he said, bowing his head slightly. "But, if you don't mind, I'd like to lie down for a while."  
  
"Zechs, why don't you show the gentlemen their rooms?"  
  
"Come with me," said Zechs. He went over to the front desk and came back with two keys.  
  
"You only booked three rooms?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, one for myself, one for Mr. Yuy, and Mr. Barton and Mr. Winner have a suite of their own," said Wufei, looking at Zechs directly.  
  
"Of course," said Zechs. "I'm sure you'll like them, they're our best rooms."  
  
"I'm sure," said Wufei.  
  
"Just rest today," said Zechs. "Tomorrow, you can worry about your therapy and rehabilitation."  
  
"I'm eager to get to work," said Wufei.  
  
"It will be slow at first," said Zechs, "But, Sally Po is the best."  
  
"Her reputation as a physical therapist is what brought me here, frankly," said Wufei. "Not that it's not a stunning facility."  
  
"Here we are, Mr. Chang," said Zechs, turning into a doorway. "All your rooms are on this floor. That one is Mr. Yuy's," he pointed to the next door. "And this one is Mr. Barton and Mr. Winner's suite." He pointed to the door across the hallway and handed Trowa the key.  
  
"Let me help you get settled in," said Quatre, taking Wufei's key and opening the door.  
  
Wufei nodded at him. "I'm going to lie down," he said wearily.  
  
He sat on the edge of the large quilt covered bed and pushed off his shoes, lying down on top of the quilt.  
  
"I'll unpack your things," said Quatre, checking the luggage tags and starting to open the bags.  
  
"Leave it until later," said Wufei, "You've done more than enough. Go enjoy yourselves," he said to Quatre and Trowa, closing his eyes.  
  
"I'll be back later," said Quatre, going over and pulling the quilt over Wufei, and making sure the lights were turned off as they all left the room. 


	4. Chapter Four

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Melton Genre: Romance, Action Pairing: 5+S, 3+4, 1+2, 13+6 Warnings: Citrus, Shounen-ai, Language Rating: R Archived: SE Updates  
  
Chapter 4  
  
"Wufei, wake up."  
  
Coming out of a Percoset-induced sleep, Wufei tried to open his eyes.  
  
A blond head hovered above him. "Quatre?" he said.  
  
"It's almost dinner time," said Quatre, "I thought I should wake you."  
  
"I've been asleep for 6 hours?" asked Wufei groggily.  
  
"You must have needed it," said Trowa, who came into focus alongside the blond man.  
  
"How do you feel?" asked Quatre.  
  
"Like a camel took a dump in my mouth," said Wufei, sitting up carefully, favoring his still-sore shoulder. "God I need a drink of water. Damned pain pills."  
  
Quatre laughed. "You're waking up cranky from your nap."  
  
"Funny, you don't look like my mother," Wufei said, scowling at Quatre briefly.  
  
"Hungry?" asked Trowa.  
  
"I think so," said Wufei.  
  
He sighed; looking down at his travel rumpled linen pants and shirt. "I guess I need to shower and change before I go down."  
  
"I'll give you a hand," said Trowa.  
  
"Thanks," said Wufei. "I'll be glad to get this brace off, it's a complete pain in the ass."  
  
"You can take it off in a few more days," said Quatre. "I'll go turn the bath on for you. A nice soak will do you good. The rooms all have jetted tubs, it's great."  
  
Trowa began to unbutton Wufei's shirt for him after he'd gently taken off the shoulder brace.  
  
"Why did I have to screw up my right shoulder?" asked Wufei rhetorically.  
  
"So other people can dress and undress you?" asked Trowa, facetiously.  
  
"I feel like I'm 2 years old," groaned Wufei.  
  
"Be a good boy and take a bath," said Trowa, "and I'll let you stay up and watch TV tonight."  
  
"Not funny," said Wufei, walking into the bathroom in his t-shirt and boxer shorts.  
  
"Need any help in there?" asked Quatre, giving his friend a mock-lascivious leer as he shut the bathroom door behind him.  
  
"I'd say go do something physically improbable to yourself," said Wufei through the door. "But you'd probably like it."  
  
"I'll lay out some things for you," said Quatre, raising his voice through to be heard through the door. "I asked Zechs if we should dress up for dinner and he said no, it was going to be informal."  
  
"Good," said Wufei, "I'm in no mood for anything else."  
  
"Sally Po is going to be there, too," said Quatre. "Zechs said she usually goes home much earlier, but they wanted her to meet you this evening."  
  
There was no answer but a slight grunt through the door, and then the sound of the Jacuzzi being turned on.  
  
Trowa and Quatre sat on the edge of Wufei's bed, chatting, waiting for him to finish.  
  
There was a quiet knock at the door. Trowa got up the open it, and Heero came in.  
  
"Wufei's taking a bath," said Trowa.  
  
"You two have got to give him a little breathing room or he's going go nuts," said Heero.  
  
"I'm worried we aren't giving him enough time to recover," said Quatre in low tones. "He could have had physical therapy in LA, why go through all of this and come out here in the middle of nowhere?"  
  
"He's burned out," said Heero. "God knows we all are. This is the first vacation he's had in 3 years, and I only got him to agree to come out here precisely because it's in the middle of nowhere. More importantly, it's away from anything having to do with the business."  
  
The looked at Heero appraisingly. "You knew if he stayed home in LA, he'd never be able to relax," said Trowa finally.  
  
"No one is going to let him relax there," said Heero. "You know it and I know it."  
  
"Maybe we all need a break, eh?" said Trowa. "I've been thinking seriously about the accident, replaying it in my head for weeks now. Maybe if we'd all not been so pushed, so mentally exhausted..," his voice trailed off.  
  
"Don't start blaming yourself," said Quatre. "We've already had this conversation a hundred times." He put his hand on Trowa's arm and squeezed it.  
  
"The insurance company said it was an accident," said Heero, always literal. "I'm going with that assessment. No reason not to."  
  
"I know," said Trowa quietly. "But, my gut tells me we were not on our toes that day."  
  
"That's not your gut, baby, that's guilt," said Quatre. "And it's unnecessary. Wufei will be fine in a few months. He knows the risks, better than any of us, no doubt."  
  
"Okay, I'll quit 'what-iffing,'" said Trowa, putting his head down on Quatre's shoulder for a brief moment, then sitting back up.  
  
"Aren't we here to relax?" asked Quatre, shifting the focus of the conversation. "What are you up to, Heero?"  
  
"To be honest, I haven't had a month to myself in so long, I don't know what the hell I'm going to do," said Heero.  
  
"Doing nothing is the hardest task of all, sometimes," said Quatre. "We've all forgotten how to be 'in the moment', I'm sure."  
  
"We're fucking pathetic," said Trowa, flopping back on the bed. "Pathetic little yuppies chasing around after the next thrill-fix. I'm sick of us."  
  
"Tro," began Quatre.  
  
"Quit trying to cheer me up, goddammit!" growled Trowa, then regretting it instantly as Quatre's face went stiff.  
  
"Sorry," Trowa muttered. "I didn't mean that. I'm just feeling sorry for myself."  
  
"I'm going to check on Wufei," said Quatre, stand up and shrugging off Trowa's hand on his arm. He walked over to the bathroom door and tapped on it.  
  
"Nice going," said Heero.  
  
"Shut up," said Trowa, without heat. He closed his eyes.  
  
Wufei was almost asleep again when he heard the tap on the door and Quatre's voice.  
  
He sat up and rubbed his face.  
  
"I hate to rush you," said Quatre's voice, "But we only have an hour to dinner."  
  
"I'll be out shortly," called out Wufei. He shut off the Jacuzzi and carefully climbed out.  
  
The hot water had loosened up his injury considerably, and he was starting to feel hungry. Dinner almost sounded like an interesting proposition now.  
  
He clumsily dried himself off with one hand and slipped on a terry cloth robe hanging on the back of the door with the spa's logo on it.  
  
As he opened the door, a rush of steamy air billowed out around Quatre.  
  
"You look more relaxed," said his manager, giving Wufei an appraising look.  
  
"I feel better," said Wufei. "You can all go now, I can get dressed by myself," he said, seeing that Quatre had thoughtfully laid him out clothes that required little effort. No buttons. Black silk pants with a drawstring, and a pullover black silk knit t-shirt.  
  
"I'll help you put the brace back on when you're done," said Trowa.  
  
"I'm done with that thing," said Wufei. "Besides, I can't eat with it on."  
  
Quatre frowned, but Wufei cut him off. "It's only for a few hours, Quatre, then I'll put it back on, okay?"  
  
Quatre nodded at him. "I should back off, I'm making you crazy, aren't I?"  
  
"No, you're just being Quatre," said Wufei, exhaling. "But I do need to start doing some things for myself, or I'm going to start drooling and babbling."  
  
"Come on, Cat," said Trowa, pulling him towards the door. "You can baby me for a bit."  
  
"I'm still pissed at you," said Quatre, but he allowed Trowa to guide him outside the room.  
  
"I'll see you at dinner," said Heero, rising to leave too.  
  
Wufei got dressed and was standing in front of an oak mirror trying to decide if he should do anything with his hair. His sore shoulder answered the question for him, he couldn't raise the arm up to do anything but brush it awkwardly with his left hand.  
  
"Ah, screw it," he said, throwing down the brush. He slid on his shoes, sockless and went out into the hallway and knocked on the door to Trowa and Quatre's suite.  
  
No answer. He knocked again, louder. "Hey you two, knock it off!" he finally yelled through the door.  
  
"We'll be there in 10 minutes," Quatre's voice came through the door, sounding strangely muffled. "Uh, 20 minutes."  
  
"Better come on," said Heero, behind him suddenly. "We'll make an excuse for them if they don't show."  
  
"I can't even tell them to get a room," said Wufei, "They have one."  
  
Heero's lips curled slightly upwards. "At least someone is enjoying your vacation."  
  
"Jealous?" asked Wufei, prodding him a bit.  
  
"No," said Heero shortly. "I'm glad for them."  
  
"Me too," said Wufei.  
  
Zechs met them at the top of the stairs.  
  
"Trieze asked me to show you to our private dining room," he said. "Are your other two friends not joining us?" he asked.  
  
"They fell asleep," said Wufei, quickly. "Exhausted from the long trip. I didn't want to wake them."  
  
"I see," said Zechs. "We'll have something sent up for them later if they don't show. There'll be plenty of other opportunities for socializing before you leave."  
  
"I'm sure," murmured Wufei.  
  
"Were having something simple tonight," said Zechs. "A spinach and mushroom soufflé, and roast duck. Trieze likes to hunt them himself."  
  
"Sounds fine," said Wufei, absently. "Wonderful."  
  
"If you don't mind me saying so, you sound distracted," said Zechs.  
  
"Just a bit of jet lag," said Heero, cutting in brusquely.  
  
Zechs eyed him coolly.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm probably miserable company," said Wufei apologetically. "I slept all afternoon after taking some pain medication."  
  
"I see," said Zechs. "Well, it doesn't matter, actually. Trieze is entertaining enough for a whole crowd, as you'll soon see. He only requires an audience."  
  
"It'll be nice to be the audience for once," said Wufei.  
  
"Duo Maxwell said you're not locals," said Heero.  
  
"Ever the investigator, Mr. Yuy?" asked Zechs archly.  
  
Heero looked at the silver maned man levelly. "I see you had us checked out. I approve. I checked you out as well."  
  
Wufei gave Heero a faintly surprised glance but said nothing. He had come to depend on his friend's vigilance.  
  
"So," said Zechs, smiling grimly, seemingly enjoying his "game" with Heero, "What did you discover?"  
  
"That you're name isn't really Zechs Marquise, or at least it wasn't until 7 years ago, when you came here. No one by that name existed until then," said Heero in casual tones.  
  
"Very good, Mr. Yuy," said Zechs. "You're quite right, I changed my name when I came to the states because of certain, shall we say, family matters."  
  
"My guess is that you're protecting someone, or yourself," said Heero. "Interesting."  
  
"Heero!" said Wufei sharply. "These people are our hosts, back off a little, for once!"  
  
"No, no," said Zechs, showing his teeth in a feral grin. "I'm enjoying myself immensely Mr. Chang. I have to admit, I rarely find someone of Mr. Yuy's caliber to spar with," he said. "Verbally, I should say," he added.  
  
Wufei began to pray for Trowa and Quatre to show up, or else dinner was going to be like feeding time in the lion cage at the zoo.  
  
"Call me Heero," said Heero. "If we know each others little secrets, then we ought to be on a first name basis, don't you agree?"  
  
Zechs chuckled. "Agreed," he said.  
  
They approached large double doors. "This is our quarters," he said to the two men.  
  
He opened the doors in a sweeping gesture.  
  
"Nice," said Heero simply.  
  
"Magnificent" was a more appropriate word, thought Wufei.  
  
"Hey!" an unexpected voice greeted them. "Welcome to Trieze-land!"  
  
"Duo," said Wufei, hoping he'd got the man's name right.  
  
"Yep," said the long-haired man, getting up from the huge off-white leather sofa and coming over. "It's me again. Like a rock in your shoe, can't get rid of me. Sally's here too." He gave a jerk of his head to indicate a honey-haired woman wearing a red linen pantsuit, sitting on the expansive sofa. She rose.  
  
"I'm pleased to meet you, finally, Mr. Chang, Mr. Yuy. Duo came because we're going to be working with you and I wanted to make sure you'd met him. I wasn't aware he'd driven you all here this morning."  
  
Wufei stared at her. "Isn't Po a Chinese name?" he asked forgetting his manners.  
  
"Yes, but I'm only one-quarter Chinese," said Sally equitably.  
  
"I'm sorry, that was rude," said Wufei, recovering his poise.  
  
"It happens to me all the time," said Sally. She held out a hand, and both Wufei and Heero took it in turn. She sat down again, reaching for a drink she'd put on the large ebony coffee table in front of the sofa.  
  
"I'm sure it's all right if you sit," she said, over the rim of the glass.  
  
"Would you like something to drink?" asked Zechs, playing the host.  
  
"Just ice water, please," said Wufei, sitting down on an identical sofa opposite the one Sally and Duo were using. Heero sat down next to him.  
  
"For me also," said Heero, looking around as if he expected an attack from the carved wooden balcony above their heads. A huge stone fireplace was in the room with a large white bearskin hanging over it. Heero found himself wondering if you really could roast an ox in it, it was that big. Everything about the room was oversized as though giants might live there.  
  
"So sorry I'm late," said a suave voice above them from the balcony. "I had a last minute overseas call that detained me. I hope Zechs has been a good host for me?"  
  
Trieze came down the inlaid wooden stairs, wearing a beige cotton sweater and khakis. Surprisingly, he was barefoot, which in no way made him seem uncomfortable. His red hair looked slightly damp, too.  
  
"Everything's fine, Trieze," said Sally. She looked at his bare feet. "You forgot your shoes."  
  
"I never wear shoes around the house, Sally, you know that," said Trieze. "A habit I picked up living in Japan for a few years."  
  
"Is that were you got the artwork?" asked Heero, pointing to a painting on silk that graced one wall of the room.  
  
"Yes," said Trieze. "I have some others upstairs, if you'd like to see them sometime."  
  
Heero smirked. The invitation had unintended overtones of a seduction.  
  
Wufei shifted slightly in discomfort next to him, and Sally choked slightly on her drink. Duo grinned widely, but tugged on his long braid in an unconscious gesture of discomfort. He reached over and gave Sally a pat on the back. She held up a hand to indicate she was fine.  
  
"That didn't sound right, did it?' said Trieze, recovering gracefully.  
  
"I'm sure it was intended in a straightforward manner," said Zechs, coming in with a few glasses on a tray.  
  
"Of course," said Trieze, but there were undertones of amusement in his voice.  
  
There was a knock on the door. Trieze rose to answer it.  
  
"Mr. Barton and Mr. Winner are here," said a burly man to Trieze. The man stepped back. "They asked me to show them where your apartment is, Boss," said the man.  
  
"Thank you, Harrison," said Trieze, opening the door wider. "Do come in," he said graciously.  
  
Quatre and Trowa came in, and Wufei nodded, acknowledging them.  
  
Duo stood up. "Hi again," he said informally, "This is Sally Po," he said, indicating the woman next to him on the sofa.  
  
"Please find a seat," said Trieze, sitting in a large red leather chair with a high winged back.  
  
Trowa and Quatre found a black leather love seat, and sat down, staring at the room for a few seconds.  
  
"I'm glad you could join us so soon," said Zechs, who had taken another red leather chair next to Trieze', near the fireplace.  
  
"Sorry about that," said Quatre. "We had to take care of a last minute problem that came up."  
  
Wufei tried to give Quatre a discreet signal from across the room, but to no avail.  
  
"You must have really been exhausted," said Zechs, archly, as he sipped some red wine from a goblet.  
  
"Oh, yes, exactly," said Quatre, folding his arms across his chest briefly in a defensive gesture, then dropping them. He fiddled with the wooden buttons on his tan linen vest.  
  
Trowa, wisely, was silent. Quatre envied him immensely at that moment for his ability to be comfortably uncommunicative.  
  
"Is Harrison the head of security?" asked Heero, breaking the momentary silence.  
  
"Yes," said Trieze. "How did you know?"  
  
"I recognize the type," said Heero, cryptically.  
  
"Mr. Yuy used to be a private investigator," said Zechs.  
  
"Ah, I see," said Trieze.  
  
"I thought we agreed to first names," said Heero, taking a drink of water.  
  
Zechs gave him a guarded look.  
  
"Yes, we must all quickly get on a first name basis," said Trieze magnanimously. "I want you all to feel at home."  
  
"Dinner is ready," said Hilde's voice, coming from behind them.  
  
Duo rose. "This is my sister, Hilde, she's the chef here," he said to everyone.  
  
"I'm sorry I can't stay," she said after greeting everyone. "I have a date tonight."  
  
"Have fun," said Duo, giving her a quick kiss on an upturned cheek.  
  
"I will," said Hilde, grinning. "I hope you all enjoy dinner."  
  
She left quickly, Duo looking after her fondly.  
  
Trieze led them to a dining room with a large oak plank table that had been polished to a high gleam with wrought iron legs. The chairs were wrought iron, high backed, with red watered silk cushions. There were large wrought iron candlesticks and a wrought iron chandelier over the table. The whole thing reminded Wufei of a medieval Spanish monastery, for some reason.  
  
"This place always makes me feel dinky," said Duo, voicing what they felt. Sally grinned at him as he sat next to her at the table.  
  
"Leave it to Duo to voice what we're all feeling,", she thought. Trieze had no idea how intimidating his sense of esthetics could be at times. Or maybe he did, she thought again.  
  
"I like big things," said Trieze. "It fits the scale of the room, aside from that fact."  
  
Heero sat down next to Duo, leaving the other end of the large table to Wufei. Trowa and Quatre sat next to Zechs, who was appropriately at Trieze' right hand at the other end.  
  
Wufei looked at the food on the table, and began to realize he was starving.  
  
"Your sister must be an excellent chef," he said to Duo, who seemed entranced with the culinary display in front of him also.  
  
"Trieze always puts on a good feed," he said, inhaling lustily. Trieze wrinkled his nose slightly at Duo.  
  
"I'm sure your sister would be offended at you referring to her exceptional talents as a 'feed', " said Trieze. "'Feed' is what I do for my horses."  
  
"Well, I eat like a horse," said Duo. "So it works for me."  
  
"Please don't stand on ceremony," said Trieze, looking at everyone. "Please, let's begin."  
  
He started by standing to carve one of two roast ducks in some sort of glaze and ask everyone if they wanted a piece.  
  
Sally accepted first, as did everyone but Wufei.  
  
"I rarely eat red meat," he said, declining politely.  
  
"Surely a taste won't do any harm," said Trieze, coaxingly.  
  
"Unless you have some esthetic reason," he added quickly.  
  
"No, I simply never have adjusted to the American and European obsession with meat at every meal," said Wufei.  
  
"I'm sure a bit will be fine," he added graciously, as Trieze carved more of the bird and put a small piece on his plate.  
  
"You were born in Hong Kong, I believe," said Zechs.  
  
"Yes, I came here when I was in my early teens," said Wufei.  
  
"You have no accent," said Trieze.  
  
"Many people in Hong Kong learn English quite young," said Wufei. "But, thank you. Neither do you, if you don't mind me saying so."  
  
"Strike two," said Heero under his breath, only Duo hearing him. Duo coughed into his napkin to hide his snicker.  
  
Sally drank some water quickly to hide her amusement.  
  
Hardly anyone could best Trieze verbally, but the young Chinese man had scored off him twice now. The evening was becoming more interesting by the minute.  
  
"Duo and I are probably the only natural born Americans here," said Sally.  
  
"I feel so un-exotic," said Duo, between swallows. "The all-American boy here."  
  
Heero was watching the other man eat, and was amazed at the rapidity with which his plate was emptied.  
  
"Not hungry?" said Duo, looking directly at Heero for the first time.  
  
"I'm a slow eater," said Heero, to cover his staring.  
  
"I should take lessons from you," said Duo, conversationally. "I guess I learned to eat fast before the other kids could beat me to it."  
  
"You come from a large family?" asked Heero quietly, interested.  
  
The others were discussing various topics from politics to food, but Heero was more intrigued by the man sitting next to him for some reason. He'd never seen someone male with such long hair before, for one thing and wondered if there was a reason for it.  
  
"Just the opposite, actually," said Duo. "Hilde and I are orphans. I was referring to the kids at the orphanage where we ended up. At least for awhile, anyway."  
  
"I'm sorry," said Heero, automatically.  
  
"I did all right," said Duo off handedly. "At least Hilde got adopted. I found her again later when we were grown up."  
  
"Can I ask you something personal?" asked Heero, trying not to sound like he was cross-examining the other man.  
  
"Shoot," said Duo. "I don't mind." He took a large bite of soufflé into his mouth.  
  
"Is there a reason you wear your hair that long?" asked Heero.  
  
Duo stopped in mid-bite. "Why, don't you like it?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.  
  
"No, no," said Heero. "Simply curious. It looks, inconvenient."  
  
"It is, kinda," said Duo. "It's a long story, though. I'll have to tell you later."  
  
"Later?" asked Heero.  
  
"I'm sure we'll see each other again," said Duo.  
  
"Oh, sure," said Heero, not used to being put off.  
  
"You should make an appointment to see me, you look like you could use one," said Duo.  
  
"One?" asked Heero, stupidly.  
  
"A massage," said Duo. "You look kinda tense, if you don't mind me sayin' so."  
  
"Oh, I suppose I could," said Heero, who was starting to wonder what that would feel like. He looked at Duo's hands. They looked quite large and strong for his size, but curiously sensitive, also. He started to sweat a little down the collar of the white cotton shirt he had tucked into his blue jeans.  
  
"Never done it before?" asked Duo.  
  
Heero shook his head, and took a long sip of water.  
  
"Something wrong?" asked Duo.  
  
"It's warm in here," said Heero. He took another drink of ice water.  
  
"You do look a bit flushed," said Duo.  
  
"I'll ask Trieze to open a window or sumthin," Duo said, but Heero stilled him with a hand on his arm.  
  
"I'm fine," said Heero. "Don't bother."  
  
Duo looked at the hand on his arm. "If you're sure," he said.  
  
Heero quickly moved his hand. "Sorry," he said.  
  
"No problem," said Duo casually.  
  
"If you need some fresh air, there's a balcony outside the dining room," Duo said in a low voice.  
  
Heero nodded, glad to know in case he needed an escape route soon. The room was feeling smaller every minute.  
  
Quatre and Zechs were discussing the stock market, and Sally was toying with her drink in a bored fashion, looking a bit distracted. Wufei was focused on his meal, saying little.  
  
Trowa was comfortable being silent in a crowd, as usual; listening to Quatre debate as he ate was entertainment enough for him at the moment.  
  
Sally pushed back her chair. "I really hate to leave early," she said, "but my babysitter needs me to be home by 9:00."  
  
"You have a child?" asked Wufei, looking up.  
  
"Yes, a son," she said, with obvious pride. "His name is Matthew. He's five," she added.  
  
"And if I get home early enough, I can tuck him in. Thank you Trieze, the food was wonderful, as usual." She rose, and others made to rise also.  
  
"Oh, please," Sally said. "No need to stand. Enjoy the rest of the evening," she said.  
  
"Thank you Sally, for coming," said Trieze.  
  
"Mr. Chang, I'll see you tomorrow, then, bright and early? Eight o'clock, so I don't recommend you stay up all night visiting."  
  
"There is no fear of that," said Wufei, stiffly. "I am a person of regular habits, I assure you."  
  
Sally raised her brows at his brusque manner, but nodded.  
  
"And, I would prefer being called Wufei," he said, "If that is all right with you," he added.  
  
"Fine," said Sally. "I'll see you in the morning to begin your therapy, Wufei," she said.  
  
Wufei was pleased to note she'd pronounced his name correctly, with the emphasis on the second syllable.  
  
"Good night, everyone," she said, leaving.  
  
Everyone bade her goodnight in return.  
  
"Excuse me," said Heero softly, a few minutes after Sally had left. "I need some air," he said quietly to Duo, starting to get up.  
  
"Come with me," said Duo, taking his arm.  
  
They walked to double doors at the end of the large dining room. Duo turned around.  
  
"I think Mr. Yuy needs some air," he explained to Trieze and Zechs, who were looking at them curiously.  
  
"It's a bit warm," said Heero in a choked voice.  
  
Duo went over and opened the door, and led Heero out.  
  
Wufei shook his head slightly and Quatre began to chat about politics, distracting everyone else again.  
  
"What's wrong?" said Duo to Heero. "You all right?"  
  
"I sometimes get a bit claustrophobic in social situations," said Heero quietly.  
  
"You don't have to go back if you don't wanna," said Duo, leaning on the balcony railing, watching the other man.  
  
"I'll be fine in a moment."  
  
Heero took several deep breaths of the brisk night air, calming himself.  
  
"That hasn't happened in a while," he muttered, almost to himself.  
  
"You wanna be alone?" asked Duo.  
  
"God no!" said Heero, then looked embarrassed at the slight outburst.  
  
Duo found himself bursting with curiosity and questions, but something about the other man made him keep quiet.  
  
"I'll hang around, then," said Duo calmly. He looked out at the distant purple-blue mountains, becoming barely visible in the late summer's fiery sunset.  
  
"Nice view, ain't it?" he said, trying to make conversation with his silent companion.  
  
"Beautiful," said Heero quietly.  
  
"Kinda takes yer breath away, huh?" said Duo.  
  
The other man was silent. Duo could hear his breathing becoming calmer  
  
"Let me know when yer ready to go back inside," said Duo.  
  
Heero simply nodded in acknowledgement.  
  
"Not much of a talker, are you?" asked Duo, after a few minutes.  
  
"Do I need to be?" asked Heero softly.  
  
Duo smiled in a genuine fashion, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. "Nope, I guess not. I probably talk enough for two people anyway."  
  
Duo sat on a nearby Adirondack chair and put his feet up on the railing.  
  
"Take all the time you need," he said. "Sit down, it'll help you relax."  
  
Heero obediently sat down in a similar chair next to him.  
  
"Look at that!" said Duo under his breath. "An eagle!"  
  
Large wings were silhouetted by the last rays of the dying sunset.  
  
"Wow," said Duo. "You don't see that everyday, even here."  
  
Heero stared. "Is it always this quiet here?"  
  
"Yep," said Duo. "No traffic noises, not many people. You get used to it, but I guess the quiet makes you a little jumpy if you're not used to it."  
  
"It's wonderful."  
  
Duo looked at the virtual stranger. "Well, I like it. Peaceful."  
  
Heero took a deep breath. "I'm ready to go back inside."  
  
"Feeling better?" asked Duo.  
  
"Yes." Heero hesitated. "I guess I should thank you for putting up with me."  
  
"You really need to learn to relax," said Duo, seriously.  
  
"I hear that a lot," said Heero with a faint grim smile.  
  
"I have an open appointment at 10:00 tomorrow. Come by and I'll give you that massage."  
  
Heero looked at Duo in the dimming light. An outside light came on above them suddenly and he jumped and swore. Duo noticed that he grabbed reflexively at his side, as if groping for something familiar.  
  
"It's just a light," said Duo. "You really are jumpy, man!"  
  
Heero took another deep breath.  
  
"I'm fine," said Heero. "Let's go inside." 


	5. Chapter Five

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Melton Genre: Romance, Adventure Pairings: 5+S, 3+4, 1+2, 13+6, Various Rating: R (maybe a bit NC-17ish this chapter) Warnings: Language, Citrus, Yaoi, AU Archived: S_E updates  
  
Chapter 5  
  
"Yuy is on to me," said Zechs, pacing the wooden floor beside the king- sized bed.  
  
"On to you?" repeated Trieze lazily, looking over the top of the book he was reading.  
  
"He knows I changed my name," said Zechs.  
  
"Oh, is that all?" asked Trieze dismissively.  
  
"Makes me nervous," said Zechs. "He might go poking around further."  
  
"I think he'll be distracted enough by our Duo not to be doing much of anything but having a good time," said Trieze, grinning.  
  
"I noticed that too," said Zechs, relaxing a bit. He flung himself stomach- down onto the foot of the bed.  
  
"Funny, I didn't see Mr. Lawyer quite that way at first," said Trieze, now sniggering a bit. "My mother always warned me to watch out for the quiet ones," he said fondly.  
  
"I'm not that quiet," said Zechs, rolling over and looking up at the skylight in the ceiling.  
  
"I do like you best when you're being rather noisy," said Trieze wickedly, setting aside his book.  
  
"You're trying to distract me, damn you," said Zechs, drawing down his blond brows into a slight frown.  
  
"Is it working?" asked Trieze, rubbing his foot along Zechs bare ribs until he squirmed.  
  
"It always works," said Zechs, leaning over and nipping a toe, which made his lover yelp.  
  
"Ah, not the toes, you fiend!" said Trieze, throwing his head back and laughing.  
  
"Can I help it if I know all your weak spots?" asked Zechs. "That was very naughty of you to make me look at your bare feet all evening."  
  
"Wasn't it though?" purred Trieze. "I thought you'd like that."  
  
"Pure torture," agreed Zechs. "I'm warning you, I have plans to get even." He crept up on all fours until he was looking Trieze in the eyes. Their foreheads touched, and  
  
"I can hardly wait," said Trieze, baring his throat to the inevitable onslaught of lips and teeth.  
  
The phone beside the bed rang twice, two short rings.  
  
"Damn," said Trieze, untangling his arms to reach for the receiver.  
  
"What is it, Harrison?"  
  
"Routine security check, Boss," said Harrison's rough voice. "Everything seems fine, but I've doubled the security team."  
  
"Thank you, Harrison," said Trieze. "Good night."  
  
"Nite, Boss."  
  
"What's with the extra security?" asked Zechs, lifting up his head from Trieze's bare chest.  
  
"Just an insurance requirement with our special guest," said Trieze. "Don't worry about it."  
  
"Wasn't I about here?" asked Zechs, dipping his head back down to lick the flat stomach under him.  
  
"I think it was lower," said Trieze roughly, entwining his hand around a large hank of platinum hair.  
  
"No, you're wrong," said Zechs, smiling wickedly.  
  
"Damn tease."  
  
"So impatient, love. Teasing is half the fun."  
  
"That's easy for you to say. You're not the one in absolute agony."  
  
"Paybacks are brutal, aren't they?"  
  
"Less talking, Liebhan, more.ah, oh, mein Gott!"  
  
The steady stream of sexy talk was part of the excitement of seducing his partner, thought Zechs with the part of his brain that was still lucid. And in several languages, too.  
  
He breathed in that familiar heady scent of arousal, Trieze and the rose scent of the cotton sheets beneath them and knew he was home, and loved. He closed his eyes, sighed deeply and stopped worshipping the evidence of his lovers' excitement.  
  
"What's wrong, beloved?' asked Trieze.  
  
"Nothing, nothing," said Zechs. He rested his head against the firm flesh of Trieze's thigh, rubbing his cheek comfortingly against the soft prickle of fine hairs.  
  
"Don't worry about her," said Trieze, reading his mind once again.  
  
"I can't help it," whispered Zechs. "You know how hard I've worked to protect her."  
  
"Sh, baby," said Trieze. "We don't have to do this, you know."  
  
"No, I want to, I need to," whispered Zechs. "I love you."  
  
"Come here," said Trieze, pulling him against his shoulder and kissing the top of his head.  
  
"I'm sorry," said Zechs. "Sorry."  
  
"For what?" asked Trieze.  
  
"Being a complication."  
  
"Life is complicated, my love. Besides, you don't want me to be bored, do you?"  
  
Zechs laughed ruefully. "God forbid."  
  
"That's better," said Trieze. He pulled the younger man up for a gentle and loving kiss.  
  
The kiss deepened until it became a small struggle for pleasure.  
  
"Oh God, Trieze, let me make love to you, I need you so much," gasped Zechs, breaking free of the contest of tongues.  
  
There was no witty retort, no playful bantering, just the sounds of pleasure being given and taken after that.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Tro?" asked Quatre, nudging his partner awake.  
  
"Wha?" was the half-asleep reply.  
  
"What's up with Heero?"  
  
"Heero?"  
  
"You know, Japanese guy, good-looking, intense, paranoid, anal retentive?"  
  
"Oh, that Heero."  
  
"You pick the oddest times to show your bizarre sense of humor."  
  
"It's 2 fucking o'clock in the morning, kitten, and if you're not waking me up for wild sex, you should be asleep. I should be asleep. Why is the whole place asleep but you and nocturnal animals?"  
  
"I'm getting a weird vibe from Heero," the blond man was chewing his lower lip.  
  
"You and your vibes," said Trowa. "Heero's a weird guy, get used to it," he said, pulling a goose down pillow over his face to drown out the light from the lamp.  
  
"Well, you've known him longer than I have," said Quatre. He sighed and rolled over to turn off the lamp.  
  
"You know," said a voice in his ear in the dark. "As long as we're awake, we could check out the soundproofing of these walls."  
  
"I thought you were tired."  
  
"I'm suddenly wide awake. Must be all this fresh mountain air."  
  
"Turn on the television. Read a damn book."  
  
"OUCH! Are you still pissed at me?"  
  
"Don't make fun of the vibes."  
  
"Okay, what penance must I perform this time to get back in your good graces?"  
  
"I get to be on top this time."  
  
"Sneaky bastard."  
  
"You love it. Admit it, you can't get enough of my hot, pulsing manhood."  
  
"You've been reading too many goddam romance nov.mmphfm" said Trowa, who was suddenly having a hard time speaking with Quatre's tongue in his throat.  
  
"I'm sorry I woke you up, baby," he said, when he finally took a break from attacking his lover's body.  
  
"I'm not."  
  
Heero was wide-awake. Nothing new there. He got up and automatically reached for the laptop closed on the small table in his room.  
  
Then he remembered the bet he'd made with Wufei.  
  
"Damn," he whispered.  
  
He rolled over and went over the evening's events in his mind.  
  
He felt prickles of embarrassment flush his skin, thinking about the panic attack he'd had at dinner. He'd thought he was done with that. Thankfully that guy, Duo Maxwell, wasn't too freaked out by it.  
  
Tired of tossing and turning, he turned on the bedside table lamp and blinked in the soft light.  
  
He automatically checked under his pillow for his revolver, and feeling the cool metal under his fingertips, exhaled. "Old habits die hard," he thought.  
  
Bored, he stood up and stretched, thinking he wished he'd brought a book with him. He flicked on the television set for a few seconds, but at 3 a.m. there was nothing much on but old movies and infomercials. He turned it off after a few minutes of channel surfing.  
  
Soundlessly, he pulled on his jeans, shrugged on a lightweight denim jacket over his white t-shirt and toed on his sneakers. Grabbing the key to his room and shoving it a pocket, he went into the hallway. He went back in after a pause, grabbing the revolver under the pillow, and shoving it down the back of his jeans.  
  
At the end of the hallway, he looked around for the security camera he'd spotted earlier. Curling his lips without managing to look the least bit cheerful, he raised his middle finger in a silent salute, and walked downstairs to the immense lobby.  
  
"Excuse me, sir," said a voice behind him as he walked over to the entrance.  
  
Heero turned around slowly. "Is something wrong?" he asked quietly.  
  
"No, sir," said the security guard, a youngish, square jawed fellow with a blond crew cut.  
  
"But, those doors are locked at night for security purposes."  
  
"Unlock them, then," said Heero. "I'm a guest here, not a prisoner."  
  
"I'm sorry, sir," said the man, whose nametag said "Sanderson" on it.  
  
"I"ll have to get permission from Mr. Harrison for that."  
  
"Call him," said Heero levelly.  
  
"May I ask where you intend to go, sir?" asked the guard politely.  
  
"No," said Heero shortly. "I was just going to take a walk."  
  
"Walking around here at night alone isn't a particularly good idea," said the guard.  
  
"I assure you," said Heero tightly, "I can protect myself. Now open this door."  
  
"I'm sorry sir, I can't." the guard was cut off by Heero clipping him on the point of his jaw so quickly, he never had time to protect himself. He crumpled to the floor of the lobby like a sack of meal.  
  
Heero fished around in the man's pockets until he found a ring of keys, and several seconds later, he was walking down a small path in the darkness. 


	6. Chapter Six

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Melton Genre: Romance, Adventure Pairing: 5+S, 4+3, 2+1, 13+6, Various Rating: R Warnings: Yaoi, Het, Citrus, Language Archived: S_E Updates, FF.net  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Duo rolled over and looked at the luminous dial on his alarm clock. 3:14 a.m. Wonderful.  
  
"Damnit, Rusty, I can't believe you can't wait until morning," he said, sitting up and scratching the back of his neck.  
  
The Golden Retriever whined and gave Duo his best apologetic dog look.  
  
"Okay, you big whine-baby, I'll take you for a walk."  
  
Rusty, being a dog, had a limited vocabulary, but "walk" was definitely in it. He gave a dog grin to Duo and ran to pull his leash off of the hook on by the door.  
  
"Thanks for reminding me how well-trained I am," groused Duo, standing up and stretching until the vertebrae in his back popped.  
  
"How come you can learn that, but you can't learn to open me a beer?" asked Duo, clumsily pulling on his jeans, and slipping on his green employee jacket.  
  
Rusty cocked his head at Duo inquiringly. "Forget it," said Duo. "I saw a dog on TV that could do that, but I guess it was faked."  
  
Rusty whined again, and went to stand by the door.  
  
"Okay, I'm hurrying," said Duo. "Remember, if you have an accident, you're cleaning it up."  
  
He slipped on his sneakers and snapped on Rusty's leash.  
  
"Make it quick, buddy," he said, "No stopping to chase gophers and pissing on every damn bush in the county."  
  
Rusty pulled him outside of the row of townhouses where the Green Mountain employees all lived, behind the spa.  
  
Rusty, after sniffing carefully at a few interesting choices, decided to water a large aspen tree near the edge of the townhouse lawns.  
  
Duo leaned against a nearby tree and yawned so widely, he felt his eardrums pop. The next sensation he felt was somewhat less familiar, that of something hard being shoved into his back.  
  
His eyes widened and he said, "I don't have my wallet with me, asshole, I'm taking my dog out for a piss." He fleetingly wondered where the hell Security was.  
  
"I'm not robbing you," said a vaguely familiar voice. " I thought you might be one of the security people for the inn. Same jacket. Sorry."  
  
"Oh, I thought you were just glad to see me," joked Duo, swallowing nervously and lowering his arms. He hadn't even realized he'd raised them.  
  
He turned around, just as Heero was pushing his revolver back inside his pants.  
  
"Gee, aren't you afraid that'll go off in there?" he asked, still panting a little with fear.  
  
Heero gave him an unreadable look and folded his arms.  
  
"Guess not, he he," Duo realized he was close to babbling with relief.  
  
"Do you mind if I ask you what you're doing wandering around outside in the middle of nowhere with a gun?" he asked.  
  
Rusty the Gutless Wonder-dog sniffed Heero curiously and then licked his hand in a blatant gesture of canine obsequiousness.  
  
"Insomnia," said Heero shortly, absently petting the dog behind the ears.  
  
"Interesting cure," said Duo, frowning at Rusty for being a self-serving traitor. "Sticking your gun in people's backs makes you sleepy?"  
  
"The security guard was treating me like a prisoner," said Heero. "I don't like that. All I wanted was to go out for a walk."  
  
"Just a security thing," said Duo. "They lock up at night to prevent theft, to keep insurance rates down. Understand?"  
  
"I don't like it," Heero growled.  
  
"This doesn't have anything to do with that earlier freak-out you had at dinner, does it?" asked Duo in a thoughtful tone.  
  
"Maybe," said Heero. He kept his eyes lowered.  
  
"Well, you're probably locked out now," said Duo. "Come on, we'll go to my place, I have a spare room."  
  
"Not tired," said Heero.  
  
"Well, come on anyway," said Duo in an exasperated voice. "You can't fucking well spend all night out here!"  
  
He turned to walk off, yanking Rusty's leash a little, not looking back.  
  
Heero stared at him for a few seconds, then followed.  
  
"Sorry about the mess," said Duo, flipping on the light. "Wasn't expecting company."  
  
He toed off his shoes and flopped down on the sofa. Rusty jumped up next to him on the sofa and put his head on Duo's lap.  
  
"Sit down," he said to Heero, who was looking around warily.  
  
Finally, he lowered himself into an armchair.  
  
"I think you'd better tell me what the hell is going on," said Duo.  
  
"I hit the security guard," said Heero.  
  
"Wonderful," groaned Duo. "Because he wouldn't let you out?"  
  
"Yes," said Heero.  
  
"Is there a reason for that, or do you just like to knock people around for the hell of it?" asked Duo.  
  
"I don't know," said Heero.  
  
"Well, if you don't know, I don't either," said Duo.  
  
"I wanted out," said Heero in a monotone.  
  
Duo looked carefully at the other man, who was pale, breathing hard, and had a "deer in the headlights" look on his face. He realized that it was a look of repressed panic.  
  
"Okay, no more questions. Would you like something hot to drink, some herbal tea?" he asked. "It'll calm you down."  
  
"All right," said Heero, swallowing hard.  
  
Duo got up and went into the kitchen. He filled the teakettle, turned on the gas and went back out into the living room.  
  
Rusty had gone over to solicit attention from the other man. Duo wasn't surprised. Rusty would go with a serial killer if it meant he would get his ears scratched. The guy unexpectedly sitting in his living room might be one, for all he knew.  
  
Heero was quietly petting the dog on the head, scratching around his ears.  
  
"His name is Rusty," Duo said, leaning on the doorjamb between the kitchen and the small living room.  
  
"Rusty," Heero repeated.  
  
"You have a dog?" asked Duo, trying to draw a conversation out of the other man.  
  
"No," said Heero. "No time for one." He kept petting the dog.  
  
Duo gave up trying to elicit a dialogue and sat down.  
  
He gazed at the other man petting his dog at 3:30 in the blessed A.M.  
  
Handsome, Duo decided. Slender, military posture, athletic, medium height. Shaggy dark brown hair that looked as though he spent as little time as possible looking in the mirror. Definitely Asian features, but something else there too. Dark blue eyes seem to confirm that conclusion. Very intense blue eyes that seemed to miss nothing.  
  
The teakettle whistled, causing Duo to pull in his straying thoughts.  
  
"Tea ready in a moment," he said, going back out into the kitchen.  
  
He quickly made two cups of chamomile and lemon tea with a bit of honey and brought them out.  
  
"What's this?' asked Heero.  
  
"Herbal tea," said Duo. "It'll help you sleep."  
  
Heero sniffed and smelled a flowery lemon scent, shrugged and took a sip.  
  
"It's not coffee," he said, "but it's good."  
  
"You should cut back on the coffee if you can't sleep," said Duo.  
  
"I don't like to sleep," said Heero.  
  
"Oh," said Duo, sipping the tea. There didn't seem to be a glib reply to that odd statement.  
  
"I guess you know this," he began after a pause, "But it's more or less necessary to sleep?"  
  
Heero looked at him blankly, saying nothing. Quietly, they finished drinking their tea.  
  
"Great," thought Duo. "I'm sitting here with a guy who hasn't slept in God knows how long, who just knocked out a security guard in a blind panic, and who carries a loaded gun. I'm fucking stupid beyond belief. And to boot, I think he's the hottest looking thing I've ever seen."  
  
Instead of giving voice to his misgivings, he said, "Come on, I'll show you the spare room."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Sanderson, the blond security man groaned and shook his head as he came back to consciousness and sat up, rubbing his bruised and aching jaw. He immediately grabbed his two-way radio and thumbed it on.  
  
"Harrison here," came his chief's voice.  
  
"I got clipped by one of the guests because I wouldn't let him out of the building," said Sanderson hoarsely. "That lawyer guy, Yuy."  
  
"I'll be right down," said Harrison. "Where is he now?"  
  
"Outside," said Sanderson. "I guess."  
  
"I want him found," said Harrison. "Khushrenada will have my ass on a plate if something happens to one of his precious guests."  
  
"Son of a bitch hit me hard," said Sanderson, wincing again as he fingered his jaw. He felt around in his pockets. "Took my keys too, godammit!" the man said.  
  
"I want him found before morning," growled Harrison. "The last thing I want is for this to get out. Keep your mouth shut and find the bastard."  
  
"Right," said Sanderson, standing up and weaving a bit.  
  
He staggered out of the front doors, switching on the heavy flashlight he carried on his belt.  
  
Heero was led to a small room with a double bed. It was Spartan, but neat and surprisingly clean.  
  
"Don't use this much," said Duo. "You can borrow some pajamas we look about the same size."  
  
"No thanks," said Heero.  
  
"Well, I'll just let you get some rest then," said Duo, edging out of the door as the other man removed his jacket and sat down to take off his sneakers.  
  
"The dog," said Heero.  
  
"What?" asked Duo. "What about Rusty?"  
  
"Can he stay in here with me?" asked Heero.  
  
Duo raised his eyebrows at the odd request.  
  
"I guess," he said finally. "If he wants to.  
  
Heero held out his hand and Rusty walked over.  
  
"Rusty," said Heero. The dog licked his hand.  
  
Heero went over to sit on the bed. "Here," he said, patting the foot of the bed.  
  
Rusty jumped up on the bed, turned around three times and settled down onto his belly, head resting on his paws.  
  
"I guess that answers that," said Duo.  
  
He grinned slightly. "I'm warning you, he's a bed hog."  
  
"Thank you," said Heero, reaching over to pet the dog again.  
  
"Good night," said Duo, closing the door.  
  
"Good night," said Heero.  
  
Heero switched off the small bedside lamp, and lay on top of the bed, not bothering to remove his jeans, and pulled the blanket over himself. One hand rested on Rusty's warm fur. The other slipped the gun in his jeans under the pillow beneath his head.  
  
He was asleep five minutes later.  
  
Sleep came to Duo somewhat later. He was still wondering why he had invited this obviously troubled person into his house.  
  
"Oh, well, Rusty likes him, and aren't dogs supposed to be a good judge of character, or sumthin like that?" he argued with himself. Finally, he closed his eyes and relaxed.  
  
The Horny Duo brain elf snickered as he popped up, "It's because he's hot, you idiot. How long has it been since you got any?"  
  
The Common Sense Duo brain elf shook it's head, looked worried and frowned at Horny. "Baby, you don't want to have sex with a psycho! Besides, the guy doesn't look like the touchy feely type, anyway. Go lay down, Horny, for once, let me do the thinking."  
  
The Lonely Duo brain elf cleared its throat. "I'd like to say something. Maybe this guy just needs a little TLC. I mean, don't we all? I think he's just a little introverted, maybe had some bad experiences. Who hasn't? Our life hasn't exactly been roses and sunshine."  
  
"You always think that," said Common Sense. "You're almost as bad as Horny."  
  
"Hey," said Fear. "What if I come onto this guy and he shoots me or something. I mean, come on, he carries a GUN for God's sake!"  
  
"You just can't handle rejection," said Lonely. "Don't you know you have to risk a little to get something in return?"  
  
"Shut up Lonely, you've got us in trouble too many times," said Common Sense.  
  
"Horny is worse!" whined Lonely, starting to sniffle.  
  
"At least Horny knows it's just about lust," said Common Sense. "He doesn't try to have more than a little bouncy-bouncy, then he goes back to sleep."  
  
"Yeah, Lonely, you're such a hopeless romantic," said Fear.  
  
"Hey, at least I stick my neck out once in a while," retorted Lonely. "I'm not a big chicken-shit like some people!"  
  
"I keep us from getting hurt again!" protested Fear. "We all hate that, don't we?" he looked around at the others.  
  
They all nodded. "If you'd just let me be the boss," said Common Sense. "That'd never happen."  
  
"And we'd never get out and have any fun," grumbled Horny. "We're not a freakin monk, you know, although that'd suit you just fine."  
  
"And, I'd never get any rest," said Lonely. "I'd have him eating a quart of chocolate ice cream every day and watching soap operas."  
  
"I don't know," said Fear. "Maybe that's not so bad, I mean. At least we'd never feel pain again. I hate pain."  
  
"We'd never feel anything again, you loser!" said Lonely emphatically. "You all know there's no such thing as a painless existence!"  
  
"I think you're a masochistic freak!" said Common Sense. "You'd do anything not to be alone!"  
  
"Would not!" Lonely stuck out his tongue.  
  
"Would too!" said Common Sense.  
  
"Oh for God's sake, will you two shut up?" yelled Horny. "I'm trying to have a pornographic dream here! It's the only fun I get these days!"  
  
"Could that guy down the hall be in it?" asked Lonely hopefully, his eyes lighting up.  
  
"Sure, why not?" asked Horny with a big grin.  
  
"Are you two ganging up on us again?" asked Common Sense and Fear, folding their arms and frowning.  
  
"YES!" they both answered and put their heads together, whispering and giggling.  
  
"Why don't you come over here and see this?" asked Horny suggestively, beginning to stroke himself.  
  
Common Sense started to feel dizzy and weak in the knees. He looked to Fear for backup, but Fear was drooling and looked hazy with lust.  
  
Lonely sighed. "Well, I guess it's better than nothing," and closed his eyes and gave Horny a soul searing kiss.  
  
Common Sense passed out from lack of blood to the brain. Fear huddled in the corner; apparently no one was going to listen to him this time.  
  
"OH, yeah, baby!" yelled Horny, watching the dream with Lonely, who was sighing dreamily. "That's my boy!"  
  
"So romantic," murmured Lonely, threading his fingers through his loose hair. His eyes sparkled.  
  
"Yeah go for it!" gasped Horny throwing his head back and groaning loudly enough to wake the dead.  
  
"Wonderful!" sighed Lonely. "I love you!" he moaned.  
  
"Oh, right," said Horny, snuggling up to Lonely.  
  
"You only want me for cheap thrills," said Lonely, but he had a smile on his face.  
  
Horny didn't hear, because he was dead to the world.  
  
The alarm rang. Duo reached over half asleep and hit the snooze button.  
  
An uncomfortably wet sensation was more effective than the alarm in waking him a moment later.  
  
"Shit," said Duo, rolling out of the wet spot and sliding down his boxers, threw them into the hamper in the corner of his room.  
  
"That was the weirdest fucking dream I've ever had," he mumbled, and stumbled naked to the adjoining bathroom to take a shower. 


	7. Chapter Seven

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Action/Adventure Pairings: 1+2, 3+4, 5+S, 13+6, various Warnings: Language, Citrus, Yaoi Rating: R Archived: S_E Updates, FF.net  
  
Chapter 7  
  
"Mommy, are you coming to my daycare today?" asked Matthew, eating something colorful and crunchy drenched in milk. His large brown eyes were almost obscured by long dark brown bangs.  
  
"Kid needs a haircut," thought Sally, reaching over to ruffle his hair.  
  
"Was I supposed to?" she asked, turning around to put a change of workout clothes in her sports bag.  
  
"MO-OM!" said Matthew, drawing out the second syllable in protest. "I gave you a note last week. This morning is the play. I'm the second president of the Untied Stakes, John Adams."  
  
Sally bit her lip to keep from smiling. "That's 'United States' baby," she corrected gently.  
  
"I'm five, Mom," he said, folding his arms and glaring at her. "Give me a break."  
  
"Break granted," said Sally. "What time?"  
  
"11:00," Matt recited, "That's just before lunch. Then, you're post ta eat lunch with me at daycare."  
  
"Okay, 11:30 it is," said Sally. "I have an early appointment, but after that, I'm free until noon. I'm sure I can ask Lucrezia to cover for me til I get back."  
  
"I like Lu," said Matt. "She's pretty."  
  
"Did you have a good time with her last night?" asked Sally.  
  
"We played 'Go Fish', and she let me win," said Matt.  
  
"How do you know she let you win?" asked Sally.  
  
"Because I won every game," said Matthew. "Since I'm just a kid, I figure she let me win."  
  
Sally chuckled. "Okay card shark, get your backpack, and I'll drive you over to daycare before work."  
  
"Lu said you're working with that kung fu guy," said Matthew. "That's who you had dinner with last night."  
  
"He's just another client, baby," said Sally. "He got hurt, and it's my job to help him get better."  
  
"Is he nice?" asked Matthew. He had his Yu-Gi-Oh backpack on, and was bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to go.  
  
"Oh, I don't know," said Sally, remembering her impressions from the other night.  
  
"He's not nice?" pressed Matthew.  
  
"To be honest," admitted Sally. "I couldn't tell. He didn't say much to me."  
  
"Maybe he was nervous," said Matthew, following his mother to the car.  
  
"When I get nervous, I can't talk good," he said.  
  
"Are you nervous, sweetie?" she asked him, opening the car door on the passenger side  
  
"A little," he said, sliding in. "I hafta say two things, and I hope I don't mess up. Darn play, anyway." He scuffed his sneakers along the carpet in the car.  
  
"Mom?" he asked, looking at her.  
  
"What?" she asked back, looking both ways before she backed out of the driveway.  
  
"Don't call me sweetie and baby in front of the other kids, it's embarrassing."  
  
She laughed. "All right, I promise. I'll call you muffin head."  
  
"MO-OM!" he protested. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Heero awoke feeling something wet being dragged across his face.  
  
He scrabbled for his gun under the pillow.  
  
"You're not gonna shoot my dog, are you?" asked Duo, leaning upon the doorjamb wearing baggy gray sweats and a wife-beater tee.  
  
Rusty barked and jumped down off the bed.  
  
"Excuse me, Heero, is it?" he asked. "I gotta let my dog out before he busts a bladder."  
  
"Aa, nani?" said Heero fuzzily, and stopped groping under his pillow for the revolver.  
  
"What's that?" said Duo, cocking his head.  
  
"Okay," said Heero, "Sorry. No, I'm not going to shoot your dog."  
  
"Nice to know," said Duo, turning around and walking down the hall with Rusty trotting along behind. Heero levered himself out of bed with a grunt and followed them.  
  
Duo opened the front door and Rusty bounded out onto the front lawn. In a few minutes, he and Rusty came back, Rusty's fur slightly damp from the morning dew on the grass.  
  
"The security guards will be looking for me," said Heero.  
  
"We need to go talk to Trieze," said Duo. "He's not that bad of a guy. The worst thing that can happen is that they'll send you packing."  
  
"The blond one," said Heero, "Zechs, I don't think he likes me."  
  
"Don't worry about it," said Duo. "You could stay with me, if you want. I mean, if they ask you to leave the inn."  
  
"You don't even know me," Heero said, frowning.  
  
"I go with my gut where people are concerned," replied Duo. "And Rusty likes you, that's good enough for me. I'm still alive, you didn't shoot me or anything." He gave an uneasy chuckle.  
  
After a long moment, Heero nodded. "All right, if they ask me to leave, I'll stay here with you. I told Wufei I'd be here with him."  
  
"You guys are good friends?" asked Duo, walking into the kitchen and pulling out plates and utensils from various cabinets and drawers.  
  
"Yes," said Heero. He sat at the other chair at the small kitchen table. "Since the Army."  
  
"I hope you like scrambled eggs," said Duo.  
  
"Fine," said Heero.  
  
"You're sort of the master of the monosyllable, aren't you?" asked Duo.  
  
The other man simply looked at him.  
  
"It's okay, you don't have to say anything," said Duo. "Just making an observation." He put a large spoonful of eggs on the other man's plate.  
  
They ate in silence for a few minutes.  
  
The doorbell rang.  
  
"I'll get it," said Duo unnecessarily. Heero kept eating.  
  
He opened the door and blinked as Harrison and another blond security guard who's name Duo couldn't remember greeted him.  
  
"Is Mr. Yuy here?" asked Harrison with minimal politeness.  
  
"Yeah, he's here," said Duo, sticking out his chin and narrowing his eyes at the larger man. "I invited him to spend the night."  
  
Harrison's eyebrows went up at that, but he persisted.  
  
"Mr. Yuy assaulted one of my staff, and he's armed. Are you aware of those facts?"  
  
"Yep," said Duo. "Maybe if you guys weren't so busy playing Nazi Storm- troopers, this kind of shit wouldn't happen."  
  
"You gotta big mouth, Maxwell," growled Sanderson, pushing his face near Duo's. "Give me half a reason, and I'll shut it for you, permanently."  
  
"You need to get your gorilla a muzzle, Harrison," said Duo. "And some mouthwash," he added, scrunching up his nose delicately. "Whew!"  
  
"Quiet, Sanderson," said the other man tersely. "I'll handle this."  
  
"Are you willing to come with us, Mr. Yuy?" asked Harrison. Heero had come to stand behind Duo.  
  
"Not particularly," said Heero neutrally. "And, you're violating this man's rights by questioning him without proper authorization." Duo gave the other man a surprised glance, but said nothing.  
  
Harrison colored a little. "I'll have to take this up with Mr. Kushrenada," he said tightly as he turned to leave. Sanderson muttered something darkly under his breath.  
  
"You do that," said Heero.  
  
"Bye, bye, boys" yelled Duo cheerfully. "Come back again and we'll play Twister."  
  
"You do have a big mouth," said Heero, after Duo closed the door, laughing.  
  
"Ah, I hate those badge-heavy idiots," said Duo. "Bunch of dumb-ass cop wanna-bes."  
  
"I take it you've gotten on their bad side before this?" asked Heero.  
  
"I have a problem with authority figures," said Duo, grinning.  
  
"Still," he said, sobering. "We'll have to tell your side to Trieze." He frowned.  
  
"We'd better get going then," said Heero. "They might not be cops, but they probably know how to call one. I did assault Sanderson last night. I probably could claim I was provoked, but it's still assault."  
  
"I'll get dressed," said Duo. He went down the hallway and into his room.  
  
Heero went to the bathroom in the hallway and after relieving himself, looked briefly at his rumpled appearance in the mirror over the sink.  
  
Shrugging, he stepped out and waited for Duo to reappear.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harrison was standing stiffly in front of Trieze's large marble topped desk when Duo sauntered in, followed by Heero. Sanderson was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"Well, Duo," said Trieze pleasantly. "I see you found our missing guest."  
  
"Before you answer that, Duo," said Heero, suddenly, "I'd like to apologize to your employee, Mr. Sanderson. I simply lost my temper because he attempted to restrain me when I wanted to leave the premises. I shouldn't have done that. You can ask me to leave, and we'll call it square."  
  
Trieze raised one eyebrow. "I see." He thought a moment. "That certainly sounds like a more charitable solution than the one Harrison suggested a bit ago."  
  
"Which was?" asked Heero levelly.  
  
"To call the local police and have you arrested and charged with assault," said Trieze smoothly.  
  
"I wouldn't recommend that if I were your attorney," said Heero coolly.  
  
"Why not?" asked Trieze in a faintly amused voice.  
  
"Several reasons," said Heero. "I can practically guarantee that if I leave, Wufei Chang and his other guests will leave too. Bad for you financially, and not exactly good publicity for your establishment either. Also, even if I'm charged with assault, it's a misdemeanor. I spend one night in jail, pay an insignificant fine, and we're back to where we are right now in 24 hours."  
  
"Do you play chess, Mr. Yuy?" asked Trieze, leaning back in his chair.  
  
"Yes," said Heero, his glance not wavering.  
  
"I bet you're good at it," said Trieze finally.  
  
"Harrison, bring your man in here immediately. Mr. Yuy is going to offer an apology to him, he's going to accept, and that will be the end of this unpleasantness. Do I make myself understood." There was an unmistakable touch of steel in the man's voice.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Kushrenada," said Harrison.  
  
"I think Mr. Sanderson needs a short vacation," added Trieze, as Harrison turned to leave. "He sounds like he's a bit stressed."  
  
"Understood, sir." Harrison left.  
  
"Duo," said Trieze, turning his chair slightly to look at him.  
  
"Is this the part where I get fired?" asked Duo, fiddling with the end of his braid nervously.  
  
"No," said Trieze smiling. "I was merely wondering how you got involved in this rather interesting situation."  
  
"I was out walking my dog and noticed Heero in front of my house," said Duo. "We talked a bit and I realized he was probably locked out of the inn, so I invited him to spend the night in my guest room. End of story."  
  
"I see," said Trieze thoughtfully.  
  
"Are you gonna ask him to leave?" asked Duo impulsively.  
  
"I doubt it," said Trieze. "But, I won't deny that things have become complicated."  
  
"I'd rather stay with Duo," said Heero, suddenly. "Then, I can come and go as I please."  
  
Duo looked surprised for the second time that morning.  
  
"That would be a solution to this problem for all of us," admitted Trieze.  
  
"If it's all right with you, of course," he said to Duo.  
  
"I'm fine with it," said Duo.  
  
"I'll have Mr. Yuy's things moved into your place by noon, then," said Trieze. "Give Millie at the front desk a key, will you?"  
  
"Sure," said Duo. "Can I go now? I have an eight thirty appointment."  
  
"Certainly," said Trieze.  
  
Duo got up to leave. "See you later, then?" he asked Heero.  
  
Heero nodded. "Later."  
  
"You were quite fortunate to run into Duo last night, Mr. Yuy," said Trieze, after Duo had gone.  
  
"Heero," said Heero. "Call me Heero."  
  
"Very well, then, Heero," said Trieze.  
  
There was a knock on the door. "Come in," said Trieze, the humor gone from his voice.  
  
Sanderson came in, flanked by Harrison. There was a scowl on the blond man's face.  
  
"Harrison has briefed you on the situation, Sanderson?" asked Trieze.  
  
"Yessir," said the man sulkily.  
  
Heero stood. "I apologize for hitting you," he said clearly. "It was uncalled for and it won't happen again."  
  
Silence. "Well, Sanderson, do you have a reply for my guest?" There was no mistaking the subtle emphasis on the word 'my' by Trieze.  
  
"I accept your apology," said Sanderson stiffly.  
  
Heero offered his hand. Sanderson glared at it for a second and they carefully shook hands.  
  
"That's the end of it, then," said Trieze sternly.  
  
Heero bowed his head slightly and turned to leave. Harrison and Sanderson close behind.  
  
When they left Trieze' office, Sanderson turned around. "Don't let me catch you out alone, Yuy," he hissed. "I'll be handing you your ass."  
  
"Anytime," said Heero levelly, turning to go up to his room. "Anytime."  
  
"Sanderson!" said Harrison sharply. "You're already in enough trouble, knock it off."  
  
Sanderson gave Heero a final glare and turned towards the exit. 


	8. Chapter Eight

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Action/Adventure Pairings: 13+6, 1+2, 3+4, 5+S Warnings: Language, Citrus, Yaoi, Het Rating: R Archived: S_E Updates, FF.net  
  
Chapter 8  
  
"Thanks for coming in early," said Sally to Duo. "I think it would put this Chang guy at ease if you're there, too."  
  
"He seemed all right to me," said Duo, shrugging. "Maybe a bit stiff, but all right."  
  
"I hear you had a little visitor last night," said Sally, changing the subject. She grinned at him.  
  
"Who told you?" asked Duo, scowling.  
  
"Lu, of course. She lives right next door to you, idiot."  
  
"Really?" said Duo sarcastically. "I had no idea she got off watching me take my dog out to pee at night."  
  
"Never forget what an incestuous little group we are here, Duo," said Sally. "Everyone works together, and we all live around here too. Believe me, sweetie, you take a crap one day, everyone is discussing what color it was the next."  
  
Duo shook his head. "Okay, from now on, I'll just put it on the bulletin board. Save everyone the trouble of gossiping about me. Headline, 'Duo Maxwell had hot stranger in his house last night, nothing happened, updates at 11:00.'"  
  
Sally laughed. "Try to make it more exciting, we're easily bored."  
  
"I don't know what's more embarrassing," said Duo. "Being gossiped about or not having enough of a life to gossip about." He sighed.  
  
"Ah, poor Duo," said Sally. She reached over and ruffled his bangs, much the same way she'd done her son's that morning.  
  
"Don't feel lonely, you're not the only unwilling celibate around here," she went over and checked the ultra sound machine, fiddling with the knobs. "I haven't had a date in so long, my little black book is a scroll."  
  
Duo laughed. "Mine's a stone tablet," he joked.  
  
"You should come over for dinner," said Sally. "Matt likes you an awful lot and we can commiserate over JaMocha Almond Ice Cream and watch old movies."  
  
"I have company now," said Duo. "Afore-mentioned hot guy is staying in my guest room."  
  
"Really?" asked Sally, looking at Duo curiously. "How'd that happen? Don't just sit there, fill me in."  
  
"He got himself kicked out of the inn because he clocked Sanderson, that ass-head security guard Harrison just hired. So, I told him he could stay with me."  
  
"That guy knocked out Sanderson?" asked Sally doubtfully.  
  
"Yeah, apparently he's tougher than he looks," said Duo. "Been in the army I guess. Chang too."  
  
"Hm," said Sally. The doors to the therapy room opened and she whispered, "Speak of the devil."  
  
Wufei came inside with Heero trailing behind. Duo noticed that the Japanese man had showered and changed his clothes since that morning.  
  
"Please come in and sit down," said Sally, raising her voice a bit. "Before we get started, I want you to understand exactly what we're going to be working for here, Mr. Chang."  
  
"I remember asking you to call me Wufei last night," said Wufei. He sat down on the edge of the vinyl covered therapy bed she'd indicated to him to sit on.  
  
"All right, Wufei," she gave him a professional smile, seeking to put him at ease. His intense expression didn't waiver.  
  
"I spoke with your orthopedist and he agreed we should start slow. Even though I'm sure you're in good physical shape, your injuries were rather extensive. There are three ligaments that hold the collarbone to the shoulder, and allow for the full range of movement we enjoy in the shoulder joint. You managed to tear 2 of them and severely strain the other, besides tearing the rotator cuff around the shoulder joint. In fact, if you were a pitcher or a quarterback, I'd have to tell you up front that your career is over."  
  
Sally cleared her throat before she went on. "But, I think that you'll be able to meet the demands of your profession when you're healed."  
  
Wufei nodded silently in acknowledgment. "So I was told."  
  
"This morning," she continued, "We're just going to start a routine of stretches after we do a ultra sound treatment and a massage."  
  
"Ultra sound?" asked Wufei. "I thought that was to look inside of the body."  
  
"It's also used to stimulate healing and circulation to an injury, which reduces swelling and pain."  
  
He nodded again, "I see."  
  
She looked at him. "You'll have to remove your shirt, Mr, I mean, Wufei."  
  
He carefully unbuttoned and slid the white shirt off his shoulders.  
  
Sally examined the still red incision scars at the top of his right shoulder.  
  
"This looks like its healing nicely," she commented.  
  
She went over to a nearby table and grabbed a bottle of ultra sound conductor lotion.  
  
"This might feel cold," she warned, squirting some in her hand. Carefully, she spread it on his shoulder.  
  
She began to run the ultra sound receiver lightly over his shoulder, Duo watching carefully. Heero was sitting in a nearby chair, a meditative look on his face, ignoring the proceedings.  
  
"You should be feeling a warm sensation," said Sally to Wufei.  
  
"The pain is lessening," he said. His eyes were closed.  
  
"This usually feels pretty good," said Sally.  
  
"Would you like to lie down?" asked Duo.  
  
Wufei stretched out on his stomach. "Like this?" he asked.  
  
"That's fine," said Duo. "Just try to relax."  
  
"If I get anymore relaxed, I might fall asleep."  
  
"That happens sometimes," said Sally. "I don't mind. We'll just wake you up."  
  
"I'm assuming you've had a massage before," said Duo, grabbing a bottle of herbal-scented massage oil.  
  
"On occasion, for sore muscles and to relax," replied Wufei.  
  
"This might be a little more intense," said Duo. "Shiatsu is deep tissue massage. I'll try to go easy."  
  
"Is it going to hurt him?" asked Heero, suddenly, rising from his chair.  
  
"No, not really," said Duo, turning around. "It's just a bit uncomfortable at first."  
  
"Don't hurt him," hissed Heero. His voice was as hard as his eyes.  
  
"It's all right, Heero," said Wufei, rolling over on his side and resting his head on his good arm. "I'm perfectly okay. It actually feels good, what they're doing."  
  
Heero sat back down in his chair. "Go ahead then."  
  
Duo looked at Sally raising a brow. Sally shrugged hers and then gazed at Heero.  
  
"Are you sure you want to be here?" she asked the other man. "There's no need to be upset, but some people are squicked by anything vaguely medical."  
  
"I'm fine," said Heero, "I won't let you hurt him, though."  
  
"I won't," said Sally reassuringly. "I'm here to help him, I promise you." She spoke with quiet confidence.  
  
"Heero," said Duo. "I've never hurt anyone doing this, okay? It's my job to help people, mine and Sally's both."  
  
"Heero," said Wufei, "It's okay. I want you to leave, go for a walk, a swim or something, please. No one's going to do anything I don't want them to do."  
  
Heero nodded, and got up to leave. He gave one last look at Wufei before he shut the door.  
  
"If you don't mind me saying so," said Sally, exhaling, "your friend is a bit intense."  
  
"We all made a pact a long time ago to watch out for each other," said Wufei.  
  
"A pact?" repeated Duo.  
  
"When we were POW's during the war," said Wufei softly. "We're alive because we took care of each other. Except for Triton, he died."  
  
"Who's Triton?" asked Duo, bewildered.  
  
"Trowa's brother," said Wufei. "When we came home, I brought him Triton's tags. We tried to help him, but he was hurt too bad. He died."  
  
Light dawned. "You mean the Gulf War, right?" asked Sally. "I was there as a medic."  
  
"Yes," said Wufei. "Heero, Triton and I. Our tank was hit, we got out, but Triton was hurt too bad. They captured us. Triton died two days later. Heero kept saying it should have been him, it was his fault. But, he was hurt too, burned, you know. There wasn't anything we could do, really."  
  
Wufei's head sagged onto his chest, as if the memory exhausted him.  
  
"Don't be upset with Heero, he's really a good guy," said Wufei. "He's just..intense, like you said."  
  
"I understand," said Sally. "I think we can stop for today. I was going to ask you to do more, but I think we've all had enough for one day."  
  
"Do you think Heero would mind if I talked to him about it?" Duo asked Wufei.  
  
"He doesn't even talk to me about it," said Wufei. "But, I guess there's no harm in trying. He told me what happened last night. I know he's staying with you. Thank you for that. I had no idea he'd be like this, to be honest with you. I don't understand. I thought he was finally dealing with everything."  
  
"I saw a few guys like Heero over there," said Sally. "Sometimes, you think you're past something, and you've just buried it, or ignored it for so long, you think it's done with. But, the right trigger, a sight, an incident, a noise, even a smell brings it all back, you relieve the trauma."  
  
"You're talking about post traumatic stress disorder, aren't you?" Duo asked Sally.  
  
"Yes," she said. "Perfectly understandable considering what happened to all of you," she said to Wufei.  
  
"It was worse for Heero," said Wufei. "He felt responsible, being our captain."  
  
"I was a lieutenant," said Sally. "I know what it means to have men under your command, people depending on you." She flashed a smile at him. "Maybe we can exchange old boring war stories sometime."  
  
"Maybe," said Wufei, slowly pulling on his shirt. "I think I'd like that. But, do we have to talk about the army? That's usually not what I talk about on a date."  
  
"Are you asking me out?" said Sally, her mouth going dry.  
  
"I thought you were asking me," said Wufei, raising an eyebrow at her.  
  
Duo grinned and walked off, making a pretense of putting towels and other supplies away in a cabinet.  
  
"Ah, sure," said Sally, "After your treatment tomorrow, we can have lunch together, how does that sound?"  
  
"Fine," said Wufei. "As long as we don't discuss the army, my injury, or Heero, all right?"  
  
"Agreed," said Sally, smiling and offering her hand. He took it. "Tomorrow then." He gave a small bow over her hand and turned to leave.  
  
"Wow," commented Duo, coming back over. "Very smooth, Sal, I didn't know you had it in you. Sally Po, celebrity pick-up artist."  
  
She smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "Shut up," she growled.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Duo found Heero on the lawn in front of his house, playing "Fetch" with Rusty.  
  
"He never gets tired of that," said Duo, plopping down on the grass.  
  
"I'm sorry I acted that way earlier," said Heero quietly. "I don't know why I did that."  
  
He threw the stick and Rusty enthusiastically chased it once more.  
  
"Wufei told us a little about what happened to you during the war," said Duo. "I think I understand what's happening to you."  
  
"I doubt it," said Heero, his face becoming shuttered. Rusty presented him with the stick, and he threw it again, farther this time."  
  
"Bad things have happened to a lot of us," said Duo enigmatically.  
  
"You don't know anything about me," said Heero stubbornly.  
  
"And you don't know anything about me," said Duo, his voice cracking a little.  
  
Heero sat down on the grass. "No I don't. Unless you tell me."  
  
"I told you I was raised in an orphanage."  
  
"And?" Heero laced his fingers under his head and leaned back onto the grass. Rusty brought the stick back and dropped unceremoniously next to him, and lay down, panting in the summer heat.  
  
"There was a fire," said Duo. "Almost everyone died, but not me. Because I wasn't there."  
  
"Why not?" asked Heero.  
  
"Because I was always sneaking out. I'd sneak out, steal things, mess around, drink, get high, whatever; then I'd sneak back in. When I came home that night, everything was burning. I never saw any of them again. They were all just bodies in bags by the time I came back."  
  
Heero gazed at him impassively for a few seconds. "Sorry," he finally said.  
  
"Fuck, I need a cigarette," said Duo. "And I haven't had one for 3 years." He toyed nervously with his long braid.  
  
"I don't know what you want me to say," said Heero.  
  
"I only told you that so you'd realize that I understand what it's like to have a traumatic experience, okay?" said Duo. "I don't tell that to too many people, but I figured, what the hell, you've probably been through worse, right?"  
  
"Okay," said Heero quietly. "I suppose if I'm going to be staying with you, I owe you some sort of explanation for my behavior."  
  
"You don't owe me anything," said Duo. "But, if you're cracking up, you need to do something about it before you do something really scary, okay? I mean, I don't want to wake up with you holding a gun on me or cutting my throat. I have enough nightmares already."  
  
"Do you think I'm cracking up?" asked Heero, his eyes unreadable.  
  
"I'm not a shrink, but I think that something weird is going on with you," said Duo. "Unless you think pulling guns on people in the middle of the night, punching people out for no good reason, and having panic attacks in the middle of a friendly dinner is normal behavior."  
  
"I thought, well, I thought all that was in the past," Heero said almost inaudibly.  
  
"Well, it's all in the present now," said Duo. "I have to go back to work, so try not to maim or kill anyone until I get back." He said it lightly, but there was no smile on his face.  
  
"I'll try," said Heero in a faintly ironic tone.  
  
"Come by at 10:00," said Duo, standing up and brushing off his black pants, "I've set aside an appointment for you."  
  
"An appointment?" echoed Heero.  
  
"For a massage," said Duo. "Remember at dinner we talked about it?"  
  
"Oh, right," said Heero reluctantly. "I suppose that will be fine."  
  
"Gee, don't get all worked up about it," said Duo under his breath.  
  
"What?" asked Heero.  
  
"Nothing," said Duo. "Thanks for taking care of Rusty, he gets bored while I'm working sometimes."  
  
"I don't mind," said Heero quietly. "He's good company."  
  
"I guess Millie gave you the key," said Duo. "Do what you want, I'll be home later this afternoon. Don't forget the massage. 10:00 o'clock."  
  
"I won't forget," said Heero, absently petting Rusty. 


	9. Chapter Nine

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Action, Adventure(little bit of some other stuff) Pairings: 5+S, 13+6, 3+4, 1+2, variously Warnings: Citrus, Language, Yaoi, Het Rating: R Archived: FF.net, S_E Updates  
  
(AN: A little taste of that long awaited fanservice, yay! You've all been so patient! And some plot too, don't forget plot! We've neglected 3 and 4 a bit, too, so I'll make it up to them. Q: Yay, we're in the story again, thank you, oh forgetful one! (Kisses author's feet)*which she really likes* T: (Glomps Q). About time! I was getting bored! (Gives author a dirty look.)  
  
Chapter 9  
  
"See, I told you, don't dis the vibes," said Quatre, pulling himself up from the side of the pool and walking over to where he'd left his towel on the chaise lounge. "I knew something was wrong with Heero."  
  
"You're getting a sunburn," said Trowa, pulling down his sunglasses and scrutinizing Quatre's bare back as he dried off his hair.  
  
Quatre tried to twist his head around to look at his back, which was clearly impossible, making Trowa grin.  
  
"You'll have to take my word for it, kitten," said Trowa. "Even I don't bend that way. Come here and I'll put some more sunscreen on your back."  
  
Quatre obediently sat on the end of Trowa's lounge chair to get his back slathered with more white stuff.  
  
"Being blonde is a pain," said Quatre, enjoying the coolness of the lotion on his back.  
  
"You're actually browning up quite nicely," said Trowa. "Just go slowly in this sun, it's pretty intense at this altitude. I can't remember the last time you were outside this much."  
  
"Is that your unsubtle way of telling me I spend too much time sitting at my desk?" asked Quatre. "I'll have you know I go to the gym three times a week."  
  
"You look all right to me, love," said Trowa in his ear. "Delicious, in fact."  
  
"Sunscreen tastes nasty," he said a second later, making a face.  
  
"I'll be sure and take a shower before you lick my neck again," said Quatre, laughing a little.  
  
"I hope that's a genuine offer," said Trowa, picking up the novel he was reading again.  
  
"As long as you don't stop at my neck. Hand me my robe, will you? It's getting chilly." He finished drying his hair and tossed the damp towel on the end of the lounge chair and sprawled out. Trowa reached into a nearby canvas bag and handed him a short robe.  
  
"This is nice, isn't it?" said Quatre, lolling back on the lounge. "You were so right about us needing a vacation."  
  
"I believe I said, 'you' needed a vacation, dear. I'm not the one working on having a stroke before my 30th birthday."  
  
"Have I been that bad?" asked Quatre softly. "Because if I have, I'm sorry."  
  
"No, baby, you haven't been that bad. I just worry about you sometimes. You get so involved in other people's problems."  
  
"I can't seem to help it. Which is what makes me the perfect personal manager, I suppose."  
  
"You don't have to do this," said Trowa. "Between your investments and your trust fund, you don't even have to work. I have to admit, I don't understand why you drive yourself so hard."  
  
"I don't want to be just another trust fund baby, Tro," he said tightly. "And, I'm not touching the money my father left me. He couldn't accept me the way I am, so I don't need his damn money. I can make it on my own and have, quite nicely, thank you."  
  
"No one's saying you can't," said Trowa quietly. "But he's been dead for almost 5 years now."  
  
"You're telling me it's time to get over it?" asked Quatre, hunching his shoulders uncomfortably under the robe.  
  
"There's no point telling you something you already know, is there?" asked Trowa gently.  
  
"No, there isn't." Quatre stood up. "I'm going back to the room. This damned sunscreen is making me itch."  
  
"I'll be up in a minute," said Trowa. "Take a shower!" he called after Quatre's retreating figure. Quatre turned around and smiled, still walking away.  
  
Trowa followed him. Only Quatre could smile and still look so sad.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Duo was lying on the massage table, taking a short nap between appointments when Heero knocked softly on the door.  
  
"Come in," said Duo, sitting up and scrubbing at his eyes.  
  
Heero opened the door. "Were you asleep?" he asked, looking at Duo.  
  
"Just popped off for a few minutes," said Duo. "Don't tell on me, okay?" He grinned. "Sleeping on the job is a no-no."  
  
"I kept you up last night, didn't I?" asked Heero, sounding slightly guilty.  
  
"A bit," said Duo. "Between Rusty, you, the gun, and a weird-ass dream I had, I didn't get enough sleep. Don't worry, I'll just take a nap when I get home later."  
  
"You had a nightmare?" asked Heero.  
  
"Not exactly," said Duo, averting his eyes in embarrassment as certain details of his dream from the previous night flashed through his mind.  
  
"Oh," said Heero. "One of those dreams." He raised one eyebrow at Duo.  
  
"Hey!" said Duo. "I didn't say that!"  
  
"You didn't have to, your face is all red," said Heero, smirking a little.  
  
"Never mind that," said Duo, busying himself with setting up the table.  
  
"Do I need to take off my clothes?" asked Heero, reaching for the bottom of his dark green polo shirt.  
  
"Um sure," said Duo, "And your pants too, if you want me to work on your legs."  
  
"There's a towel there you can wrap around yourself in the dressing room," he said, indicating a small curtained off area at one end of the room.  
  
Heero went behind the curtain and came out a few minutes later, wrapped in a large white towel.  
  
"Like this?" he said.  
  
"Fine," said Duo. "Jump up here and lie on your stomach please." He placed his hand on the padded massage table.  
  
Heero complied. "Give me a minute," said Duo. "I usually like to warm up the oil a bit. It feels cold, otherwise."  
  
"How does one become a massage therapist?" asked Heero.  
  
"One goes to school," said Duo. "One gets a license."  
  
"I see," said Heero. "I hope you didn't take that the wrong way."  
  
"Nope," said Duo. "But for some people, massage is still a euphemism for procuring sexual favors. I'm still an amateur in that particular field." He chuckled.  
  
Heero was silent for a few moments. "I don't want to interfere with your normal routine," he finally said. "I mean, just because I'm staying with you."  
  
"My normal routine has not been interfered with," said Duo. "Except there's someone else around to entertain my dog."  
  
"What I mean is," Heero cleared his throat. "I don't want to interfere with your social life."  
  
"My social life is pretty much what you saw last night," said Duo. "Sadly enough," he added.  
  
"Oh," said Heero. "You don't have a girlfriend then."  
  
Duo sighed. "I'll level with you. Even when I had a 'social life', I didn't have a girlfriend. I had a boyfriend."  
  
"Oh," said Heero.  
  
"You're not weirded out by me now, are you?" asked Duo. He was surprised at how dry his mouth felt. "I mean, because if you are, we can find you somewhere else to stay."  
  
"No, I'm not 'weirded out'," said Heero. "I seemed safe enough the other night."  
  
Well, okay, then, um, good," said Duo. He wasn't sure, but he thought he detected a trace of humor in Heero's dry tones.  
  
"Speaking of 'weirding out'," said Duo. "You're not going to freak when I touch you now, are you?"  
  
"No," said Heero. "I'm trusting your amateur status will remain intact."  
  
Now Duo knew for sure he was being teased, albeit in a very subtle fashion.  
  
He poured some warm oil into his hands and began to work it into the muscles of Heero's upper back.  
  
"Feeling okay?" asked Duo. He usually kept up a stream of innocuous chatter with clients, unless he noticed it making them tense.  
  
A small grunt was the response.  
  
"You're very tense," said Duo. "But, after last night, I suppose anyone would be."  
  
There was no response except the gradual relaxing of the tight muscles under his hands. Duo briefly noticed a few small scars on the man's back, including one that was about the size of his palm. It looked like the old scar of a burn.  
  
Duo went through his massage routine quietly after that, working downward until he reached the tight muscles in the lower back.  
  
"You're not uncomfortable with this?" he asked brushing his hands lightly on the waistband of Heero's boxers.  
  
"No." Heero's voice sounded drowsy.  
  
"I usually ask," said Duo.  
  
"Go ahead," said Heero.  
  
"I won't touch you anywhere you don't want me too."  
  
"I believe you."  
  
"Good," said Duo. "There's not a gun in here, is there?" he joked.  
  
He felt a slight tremor under his hands that indicated silent laughter.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Quatre?" called Trowa, unlocking the door to their room.  
  
There was no answer, so Trowa followed the trail of discarded clothing to the bathroom door.  
  
He opened it and steam obscured his vision.  
  
"Quatre?" he inquired. He waived his hand in front of his face to clear the fog away.  
  
He went over and wiped the steam away from the glass shower door.  
  
Quatre was sitting on the shower bench, his face buried in his hands.  
  
Without bothering to remove his trunks and t-shirt, Trowa walked in and knelt in front of him.  
  
"Why couldn't he just love me the way I am?" asked Quatre plaintively from between his fingers.  
  
"I don't know," said Trowa softly. "Come on, you're getting all shriveled in here." He put his arms around the other man.  
  
"You know, the last time I saw him, we argued. I never saw him again."  
  
"I know. Come on, water's getting cold."  
  
They stood, arms still entwined. "I was never what he wanted me to be."  
  
"You can't always be what other people want you to be."  
  
"I'm cold."  
  
"That's because you're standing here in the shower dripping wet, baby. I'll get you a towel."  
  
"Don't go."  
  
"I won't. I promise. Just to get you a towel."  
  
Later, lying on the bed, Trowa leaned over and traced the delicate tracks of tears down the blond man's face as he slept peacefully. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Do you mind if I ask where we are going?" asked Wufei, getting into Sally's car.  
  
"Lunch," said Sally cryptically. "I hope you don't mind, it won't be anything fancy."  
  
"I'm not a gourmet," said Wufei. "I actually prefer simple things.  
  
"Then, you're going to love this," said Sally, smiling at him. "We're going to my house. But, first, I have to stop and pick up my son from daycare."  
  
"Matt, I think you said his name was," said Wufei.  
  
"Yes, his name is Matt," said Sally. "I promised him we'd have lunch today. You know how kids are about being disappointed."  
  
"Not really," said Wufei. "I don't have any. But, if they're anything like actors, it probably isn't a good thing."  
  
Sally laughed. "Worse," she said. "For a kid, a promise is a promise, no matter what."  
  
Sally pulled up in front of a colorful building with playground equipment in the yard.  
  
A small blur ran up to the car. "Mom!" he said as Sally motioned for him to get in the back seat.  
  
"Who's that?" Matthew asked, sliding in.  
  
"This is Mr. Chang," said Sally. "Remember I told you about him. He's going to have lunch with us."  
  
"Cool!" said Matt. "Are you really in the movies?"  
  
Wufei chuckled. "Yes, but I'm not an actor. I do stunts."  
  
"That's like dangerous stuff, right?" asked Matt.  
  
"Yes, it can be," said Wufei. "Most of what I do is martial arts."  
  
"Is it hard?" asked Matt.  
  
"It takes a long time to learn and do well," said Wufei to the boy. "I practice a lot."  
  
"Like writing?" asked Matthew. "I have to practice a lot to make good letters."  
  
"Exactly like that," said Wufei. "At first, it's hard, and the more you practice, the easier it becomes."  
  
"How long have you being practicing?" asked Matt.  
  
"I started when I was about your age," replied Wufei.  
  
"Wow, you must be old," said Matt.  
  
Sally stifled a giggle. "To a five year old, everyone over 12 seems old," she said.  
  
"Yes, I remember," said Wufei. "I was a child once, believe it or not." He smiled at her.  
  
"That's not so hard for me to believe," said Sally. "Although I imagine you were a rather serious child."  
  
"I can't say," said Wufei. "I remember being somewhat quiet, though. I was raised by very traditional parents and I was expected to be attentive and quiet."  
  
"Well, we're here," said Sally.  
  
"What's for lunch, Mom?" asked Matt, climbing out of the back seat. "I hope its pizza!"  
  
"You had pizza last night," said Sally, "Don't you ever get tired of it?"  
  
"Nope," said Matt.  
  
"Well," said Sally, "its not pizza."  
  
"Darn," said Matt. "Is it Chinese?" he asked, hopefully.  
  
"Bingo!" said Sally. "I'm making Chinese chicken salad, your favorite."  
  
"Pizza is my favorite," said Matt.  
  
Sally gave him a "look" as they went into the house.  
  
"But that's good too," he said, amending himself quickly.  
  
"I'm so glad you approve," said Sally dryly. "Go wash your hands."  
  
"Okay," said Matt, running down the hall.  
  
"He seems like a bright child," said Wufei.  
  
"Please, sit down," said Sally, indicating a stool across from the kitchen counter, where she began the finishing touches on their lunch. "Yes, he is. Takes after his father, I think. At least he looks like him."  
  
"I don't mean to be overly inquisitive," said Wufei, "But are you divorced?"  
  
"I'm a widow," said Sally, "My husband died 2 years ago. A car accident."  
  
"I'm so sorry to hear that," said Wufei sincerely.  
  
"Thank you," said Sally perfunctorily. She reflected briefly on how many times she'd received condolences for her husbands death the last few years and mentally shrugged. It had become a ritual.  
  
"It's been hard on Matt," she said, "He misses his father, even if he doesn't remember him very well. He misses his presence more than anything, I'm sure."  
  
"I'm sure," echoed Wufei. "I know how it is."  
  
"Do you?" asked Sally calmly. "It's a hard thing to understand unless you've experienced it."  
  
"My wife died 3 years ago," said Wufei.  
  
Sally looked up from making a salad over the kitchen counter. "I didn't know that."  
  
"I'm surprised," said Wufei with a faintly bitter tone. "It was in most of the national newspapers."  
  
"I'm sorry, I don't keep up on the news that much. We're a bit isolated here, I suppose," said Sally. "Was she ill?" Sally asked quietly.  
  
"No, an accident. She worked with me and there was a accident."  
  
Sally winced. "You saw it?" she asked. A memory of seeing her husband's body flashed through her head and she gripped the counter briefly, feeling a bit dizzy.  
  
"Yes, I was there," said Wufei. "But, this isn't exactly pleasant talk in front of your son." He pointed his chin slightly in Matt's direction, as he was coming down the hallway.  
  
"I'm done, Mom," the boy said. "See?" he held up his hands for inspection. "I used soap and everything."  
  
Sally grinned and pretended to scrutinize his hands. "Looks good, sweetie," she said.  
  
"Mom, do you have to call me that?" asked Matt, rolling his eyes.  
  
"Sorry, I forgot," said Sally. "Go set the table, okay?"  
  
"Okay," he agreed, "But I can't reach the plates, they're too high."  
  
"I'll help you," said Wufei, standing up. "Show me where they are."  
  
"Up there," Matthew pointed to an overhead cupboard. "Usually I just climb up when Mom's not looking." He grinned mischievously.  
  
"That explains the sneaker tread marks on the countertops," said Sally, pointing her utensils at him.  
  
"Mom, can I use my Transformers plate?" asked Matt.  
  
Sally sighed. "I suppose," she said.  
  
"It's right there," pointed Matt. Wufei looked until he found the plate.  
  
"Do you like Transformers?" he asked Wufei.  
  
"I suppose I would if I knew what it was," said Wufei.  
  
"It's a cartoon," said Matt in a superior tone. "My mom watches with me, you can ask her all about it."  
  
"I'm sure we'll do that later," said Wufei, sounding amused.  
  
"Everything's ready," said Sally. "As soon as you get the table set, we can eat."  
  
"We need to hurry before Mom gets mad," whispered Matt, putting his plate on the table.  
  
"She seems nice to me," whispered Wufei back. He handed Matt some silverware, a napkin and a glass.  
  
Matt giggled. "She is, but she gets mad sometimes," he confided.  
  
"What are you two whispering about?" asked Sally, raising her brows.  
  
"Nothing," said Matt, the very picture of innocence.  
  
"Good, then, let's sit down. I have to get back to work in 2 hours and you have to go back to daycare."  
  
"Daycare sucks," sighed Matt. "Can't I go to work with you, Mom?" he wheedled. "Pleeeeze?"  
  
"I have to work with Wufei this afternoon," she said. "We have a lot to do."  
  
"I don't mind," said Wufei. "I'm sure Matt will behave himself while we do my therapy."  
  
Matt grinned widely, displaying one missing upper tooth. "Cool!" he said.  
  
"All right," said Sally, as she poured Matt a glass of juice and herself and Wufei some iced tea. "But, you have to stay out of trouble."  
  
"I will, I will, I will," said Matt, bouncing in his seat a little.  
  
Sally gave Wufei a "I hope you realize what you're in for," look and he smiled warmly and arched one eyebrow at her. She felt her face flush a bit.  
  
I can't believe I'm so attracted to someone I just met, thought Sally. She mentally chastised herself for feeling like a teenager with a crush at her age.  
  
She tried to dismiss those thoughts as she idly listened to Matt describe in gory detail how someone named Brad had got a crayon stuck up his nose at daycare that morning.  
  
"They had to call his mom and everything," finished Matt dramatically.  
  
"Sounds painful," said Wufei, barely concealing a smile between bites.  
  
"He cried," said Matt. "But, he's a little kid. He's only four."  
  
"I'm sure had that happened to you, you would have been much braver," said Wufei seriously. Although Sally noticed a few crinkles of amusement around his dark eyes.  
  
Matt glared. "I don't stick crayons up my nose!" he said, slightly indignant.  
  
"My apologies," said Wufei, still serious. "I should have realized you're much too old for that."  
  
"Are you done eating?" asked Sally, looking at Matt's empty plate. "Yeah," said Matt. "May I be excused?" he asked. "I wanna go outside."  
  
"Go ahead," said Sally. "Put your plate by the sink, and I'll call you when we're ready to go."  
  
"Okay, Mom," said Matt, getting up and putting his plate on the kitchen counter. He literally ran outside, slamming the door behind him. Sally winced slightly.  
  
"Would you like more?" asked Sally, looking at Wufei's now empty plate.  
  
"No thank you," he said. "But, it was quite good."  
  
"I just thought you might enjoy something a little more homey than going to another restaurant, or eating at the inn," said Sally.  
  
"You thought rightly," said Wufei. "I enjoyed it very much. Would you like me to help you do the dishes?" he asked.  
  
Sally looked slightly flabbergasted. "No, that's all right, I'll just rinse them off and put them in the dishwasher. But, I can't believe you offered."  
  
"I'm quite accustomed to doing household chores," said Wufei. "I live alone, remember?"  
  
"Oh, right," said Sally, feeling a little foolish. "I just thought you'd have help to do things like that."  
  
"I have a maid for heavy cleaning," he said, "but I usually do all my own cooking, and other things."  
  
"You cook?" asked Sally.  
  
"Since the alternative is hunger, yes," he said, smiling at her. "I'm quite self-sufficient, actually."  
  
"I hate to say this, since I hardly know you," said Sally. "But it sounds rather lonely."  
  
"Of course," said Wufei blandly. "But I have good friends, and I keep busy."  
  
"It sounds selfish," admitted Sally, getting up to rinse off the dishes. "But I'm so glad I have Matt. He gives me something other to focus on besides work."  
  
"You're very fortunate," said Wufei. "Someone tangible, alive to honor your husband's memory."  
  
"He sounds sad," Sally thought, putting the dishes in the dishwasher.  
  
"Would you like to come sit out on the deck?" asked Sally. "I want to keep an eye on Matt."  
  
"Of course," said Wufei.  
  
Sally opened the French doors leading out onto the wooden deck from the dining room.  
  
"I love it out here," she said, sitting down on a cushioned rattan lounge. Wufei sat in a rocking chair.  
  
"The view is very nice," said Wufei in a distant voice, looking out over the fenced yard full of flowers and trees and at the surrounding mountains.  
  
"This is a good place for your son to grow up," he said.  
  
"Yes, a bit out of the way from civilization, but he's free to run and play here," she said. Matt was in a sandbox in a corner of the yard, building ramps and jumping trucks off of them with loud engine noises he supplied himself.  
  
"Civilization is not so civilized," said Wufei, watching the boy. "He's better off here."  
  
"No doubt," said Sally. She checked her watch. "We have to be back at the inn in 45 minutes," she said.  
  
"You needn't feel compelled to entertain me," said Wufei, seriously. "I'm enjoying the view, and the quiet."  
  
"I feel comfortable around you," said Sally, "I'm glad you feel the same."  
  
They sat in companionable silence, watching Matt play until it was time to leave. 


	10. Chapter TenLEMON

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Adventure Pairings: 5+S, 13+6, 1+2, 3+4 Warnings: Citrus, Language, Yaoi, AU Rating: R Archived: FF.net. S_E Updates  
  
Chapter Ten  
  
Duo prepared himself for a Rusty onslaught as he got out of his car. The coast seemed to be clear as he looked around. He was tired, his arms ached he was really not in the mood for a doggy breath tongue bath.  
  
He walked into the house and a wonderful smell assaulted his olfactory sense, making his mouth water. It smelled like the delivery entrance to paradise.  
  
"Heero?" he asked cautiously. He followed his nose to the small kitchen.  
  
The object of his wet dream was hovering over the stove, a large spoon in his hand. He turned around.  
  
"I hope you don't mind," Heero said. "I made us dinner."  
  
"No, no, not at all," said Duo. "Although I have no idea where you found much to cook. I think the only thing in my fridge was eggs, Pepsi and beer."  
  
"I found the local grocery delivers," said Heero, pointing to the phone.  
  
"Really?" said Duo. He came up closer and inhaled blissfully. "So, what are we having?"  
  
"Pork medallions in mustard sauce," said Heero, checking under the lid of the pot. "And rice pilaf."  
  
"I'm dead, right, and this is heaven?" asked Duo dramatically. "Excuse me while I break into sobs."  
  
"I noticed you like to eat," said Heero. "So, I thought I'd thank you by fixing dinner."  
  
"Thank me?" echoed Duo. "For what?"  
  
"For putting up with my odd behavior, among other things."  
  
Duo turned a kitchen chair around and straddled it.  
  
"You wouldn't be the only person in this room accused of behaving oddly," said Duo. "If you want an honest opinion, I think you just need to quit trying to go around whatever is bothering you and just go through it."  
  
Heero turned and gazed at him with an unreadable expression. "Dinner is ready," he said finally.  
  
"Give me a minute," said Duo, standing up and pushing back his bangs. "I'll wash up quick-like and be right back."  
  
He came back a few minutes later, and the table in the small dining room had already been set, with food steaming on the table.  
  
"I could get used to this," said Duo, sitting down. Heero gazed at him from the other side of the table, again making no comment.  
  
"I didn't mean anything by that," said Duo, realizing the import of what he'd just said.  
  
"Why not?" asked Heero. Duo, about to attack his food, paused.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"I asked you why you didn't want me to think you meant that."  
  
"I dunno," said Duo, blinking. "Maybe if I eat, I'll be able to answer that better. I always think better on a full stomach."  
  
"Do you always do that?" asked Heero, watching Duo eat.  
  
"What?" asked Duo, after he swallowed. "This is good, by the way, really good."  
  
"Are you always this evasive when someone asks you a personal question?" asked Heero.  
  
"As opposed to simply staring at someone?" asked Duo.  
  
"Hn," said Heero.  
  
"I'd almost forgot you were a lawyer," said Duo. "Asking the tough questions is a bit easier than asking them, isn't it?"  
  
Heero looked at him and ate a small bite. After a moment he said. "Too much pepper."  
  
"Hey, that's my trick," said Duo, giving the other man an uneasy grin. "Changing the subject."  
  
"I've always been a quick learner," said Heero, deadpan.  
  
"Okay, I'll answer the question, Mr. Attorney," said Duo, after a few minutes filled with the sounds of cutlery clinking against china.  
  
"Hostile witness," murmured Heero.  
  
"Not hostile," said Duo. "Just nervous."  
  
"Do I make you nervous?" asked Heero.  
  
"Yes," said Duo. "I find you unreadable, somewhat uncommunicative, and downright scary at times, and yet, I like you. I'm beginning to wonder what that says about me."  
  
"You like a challenge?" suggested Heero. "And by the way, you are correct about all of the above. I'm not a very open person. Perhaps not even very pleasant at times."  
  
"That's the biggest understatement since, 'Look, Captain, I think that's an iceberg!'", said Duo.  
  
Heero snorted.  
  
"Was that a laugh?" asked Duo. "Because you need to work on that, too. The mouth should be open and more sound should come out."  
  
"Are you always this grumpy when you come home from work?" asked Heero.  
  
"Don' t worry about it," said Duo quietly. "It's not as though this arrangement is going to last forever." He found himself wondering why that comment caused a small pain to squeeze his chest.  
  
"You're just lonely," he chided himself. "If you had a life, losing a slightly bizarre but intriguing houseguest wouldn't bother you in the least. Don't be pathetic."  
  
"I suppose not," said Heero levelly. "Although I have enjoyed being here. I liked making dinner. I like your dog."  
  
"But I drive you nuts," finished Duo.  
  
"As you have already kindly pointed out," said Heero. "I was 'nuts' before this, so you didn't have to drive me."  
  
Duo laughed ruefully. "Did you just make a joke?" he asked.  
  
"I was going to say 'I like you," said Heero, "But you interrupted me, baka."  
  
"Baka?" asked Duo, cocking his head. "What's baka?"  
  
"It's Japanese for "idiot"," said Heero, calmly eating.  
  
"Great, now I'm an idiot in two languages," said Duo, but he grinned and placed a large bite of food in his mouth and chewed enthusiastically.  
  
"So, you like me," said Duo, after he swallowed. "What do you like?"  
  
"Are you fishing for more compliments?" asked Heero, "Because I have read that is the sign of an insecure personality."  
  
"Is there dessert?" asked Duo, obviously changing the subject.  
  
"You're changing the subject," stated Heero.  
  
"I hope its pie," said Duo, gazing with forced interest at his plate. "Apple pie is my favorite, you should know. With ice cream. Vanilla ice cream."  
  
Heero exhaled in a show of patience. "No dessert until you answer one question forthrightly."  
  
"Pretty damn bossy for a guest," pouted Duo. He looked up. "Okay, shoot," he said. "Wait a minute, where's your gun?" he looked around comically.  
  
"It's in the guest room safely locked away," said Heero, folding his arms.  
  
"I'll make you a deal," said Duo finally.  
  
"I'll answer one question if you do. No holds barred, total honesty."  
  
"Agreed," said Heero.  
  
"My question is, you're having flashbacks about what happened to you during the war, aren't you?" asked Duo.  
  
"Yes," said Heero simply.  
  
"Hey, no fair!" cried Duo. " 'Yes'" is not an answer," he complained.  
  
"It fits the criteria of our agreement," argued Heero quietly. "It's completely honest."  
  
"Damn," said Duo.  
  
"Now, my turn," said Heero.  
  
Duo unconsciously braced himself by gripping the arms of his chair.  
  
"Go ahead," he said in a sulky voice.  
  
"You're wondering if I'm gay and if I'm attracted to you, aren't you?" asked Heero.  
  
Duo chewed on his lip. "Okay, yeah," he said finally.  
  
Heero looked smug. "Thought so," he said, turning around and opening the refrigerator. "Oh, look, there's a pie in here," he said, feigning mild surprise.  
  
Duo closed his mouth. "Apple?" he said hopefully.  
  
"Ah, no," said Heero, "Blueberry, sorry.  
  
"Blueberry is good," said Duo.  
  
"So?" he asked, as Heero reached for knife to cut the pie.  
  
"What?" asked Heero, cutting a large piece.  
  
"Are you?" asked Duo, finally.  
  
"One question," said Heero, handing him a piece of pie.  
  
"What?" asked Duo, picking up his fork.  
  
"Our agreement was one question each," said Heero. "That's two questions. If you get another question, I get one too."  
  
Duo mumbled something about blackmail under his breath and ate a bite of the pie. "This is good," he said in a voice muffled by pie.  
  
"Did you make it?" asked Duo swallowing.  
  
"That's three questions," said Heero. He was eating a smaller piece of pie.  
  
"Shit!" said Duo, exasperated. "You're enjoying this!"  
  
"Yes," said Heero. "I find you very entertaining."  
  
"Sadist," muttered Duo.  
  
"Not really," said Heero. "I'd say I have a relatively healthy balance of tendencies in that way."  
  
"Okay, ask a question," said Duo, wincing a bit. More pie soothed him, he found, so he ate another large bite.  
  
"Are you attracted to me?" asked Heero.  
  
Duo choked on the bite of pie. His eyes watered as his hands flailed for his glass of water. Heero reached over and handed it to him.  
  
"Do you need me to perform the Heimleich maneuver?" asked Heero, walking around to stand behind him.  
  
"No," Duo gasped, after drinking some water.  
  
"Are you all right?" asked Heero. "I had no intention of causing you to choke."  
  
"Really?" asked Duo sarcastically. "Do you always just come right out and ask people questions like that?"  
  
"Only people I'm attracted to," said Heero.  
  
Duo felt warm hands on his shoulders and jumped a bit in pure reflex, then relaxed.  
  
"I think I wasted my question," he said, after a moment.  
  
"Yes, you did," said Heero.  
  
Duo felt warm breath on his neck and goosebumps appeared on his arms.  
  
"My neck is sort of a weak spot," he said in a rough voice.  
  
"I'll be gentle, then," said a voice in his ear, and Duo closed his eyes to savor the delicious feeling of having his neck kissed and nuzzled.  
  
"Damn," said Duo, in a breathy voice. "That's even better than the pie."  
  
"I'm sorry there was no ice cream," said Heero, as he bit down lightly on the other man's neck.  
  
"Ah, I'm dealing with the disappointment," said Duo, his voice breaking a bit. He tilted his head to one side to allow more access to his neck and felt his t-shirt being raised and a warm hand waft across his stomach.  
  
"Hey, um, hold it," he said reluctantly. "As much as I'm enjoying the hell outta this," he said. "I wasn't exactly prepared for hot nasty wet grinding sex tonight, if you know what I mean."  
  
"Say no, and it stops," said Heero in his ear, "Although I AM prepared for hot nasty wet grinding sex. I think it's rude to initiate without proper precautions. Not to mention unhealthy."  
  
"Okay," said Duo, still breathing hard. "Now that we have that awkward and terribly unsexy moment out of the way, I need to know if this is just a friendly tumble or are we going to act like we know each other tomorrow?"  
  
He felt the hand drop from his stomach and was gently but firmly turned around by the other man.  
  
"I don't do that," whispered Heero, giving him an intense look from dark blue eyes through his long shaggy bangs.  
  
"I didn't mean to imply anything," said Duo, gazing back directly with a searching look of his own. "I just can't afford to play games. I don't like it. Too painful."  
  
"I don't play," said Heero, still holding onto Duo's shoulders. "I feel something for you and I've decided to go with it."  
  
"What do you feel?" asked Duo quietly.  
  
"Something good," said Heero. "Do you want me to tell you I love you? Because I don't know yet, but I know it's something good, that's all."  
  
"I think good is good enough," said Duo. "For now, anyway." He leaned in and gently sought Heero's lips.  
  
The kiss was returned and became more heated. "I need to sit," said Duo, pulling away. "Rubber legs," he explained shortly.  
  
"Sofa," said Heero, steering him into the living room and when the sofa touched the back of Duo's legs, he sat down abruptly, unexpectedly.  
  
"Sorry," said Duo. "It's been a while since I've done any serious making out, and I'm a little rusty."  
  
"Me too," said Heero, sitting next to him. "Its not as though I do this everyday."  
  
"How long?" asked Duo, swallowing. He brushed his hand along Heero's.  
  
"Two years, 2 months and," he looked at the date on his watch, "13 days."  
  
"That long?" said Duo dryly. "About 2 years for me, too. I'm practically a virgin again." He laughed hollowly.  
  
"Same here," said Heero.  
  
"I can't even remember if I prefer top or bottom," joked Duo.  
  
"We'll find out," said Heero, grabbing him and pulling him against his chest for another searing kiss.  
  
"Not on the sofa," said Duo, sitting up. "My room, bigger bed, okay?" he said breathlessly.  
  
A nod.  
  
"Gee I hope I have clean sheets," he laughed nervously.  
  
"Why?" said Heero, being pulled along the hallway. "They're just going to get dirty again."  
  
"You're so practical," said Duo, grabbing him and pushing him through the doorway. "I like that."  
  
"You're so impulsive, I like that," said Heero, sitting down as his legs touched the side of the bed.  
  
"You're so beautiful, I really like that," said Duo, pushing the other man down and gazing at him.  
  
"I like your hair," said Heero, reaching up and sliding his fingers through the strands that had come loose.  
  
Duo reached up and slowly pulled the long braid loose. "How about now?" he whispered, as it fell like a curtain around them, covering them both.  
  
"Amazing," breathed Heero. "I've never seen anything like it." He raked his hands through the soft masses, and rubbed a handful against his cheek. "Smells like you," he said, closing his eyes.  
  
"There's more," said Duo. He sat up and slowly pulled his shirt over his head, spilling his hair around them again. "Now you," he said to Heero, who was watching him entranced.  
  
"You've already seen me bare chested," said Heero. "No surprises."  
  
"I wanna see again," said Duo. "It was worth seeing again."  
  
He reached down and slowly unbuttoned the other man's shirt, and began to place small caresses on his stomach, working up to his nipples, then down to his navel. Small sounds of appreciation were his reward.  
  
"I knew you'd be good at this," groaned Heero. "Your hands are amazing."  
  
"Other parts of me have gotten good reviews, too," said Duo, beginning to place long loving licks on the other man's stomach.  
  
"These pants are coming off," said Heero, as he reached down to remove them.  
  
"Let me," said Duo, deftly unfastening the button and pulling down the zipper.  
  
He made a motion and Heero complied, lifting up his hips to facilitate sliding his clothing down.  
  
"You next," said Heero. "But, we'll need the stuff in my pants pocket."  
  
"I love a guy who plans ahead," laughed Duo, feeling through the pockets and retrieving a condom and a small tube. He slid off the rest of his clothing.  
  
"God I can't believe how nervous I am," said Duo, sitting on the edge of the bed and absently running his fingers through his hair.  
  
"We don't have to do this," said Heero, sitting up on his elbows.  
  
"Parts of me have already finished," Duo said. "Fortunately, not THAT part."  
  
Heero quirked up one corner of his lips.  
  
"Maybe we need to slow down," he said.  
  
Duo exhaled. "Maybe," he said.  
  
Duo stretched out next to him on the bed. "Or we could just get the sex part out of the way."  
  
Heero frowned, "I'd like it to be a bit more memorable than that."  
  
"Me too," said Duo smiling. He reached over and took Heero's hand, rubbing his thumb gently over the palm.  
  
"But, I want you to stay here with me," said Duo. "Please."  
  
Heero nodded. "I'll stay," he said, "We'll just go slowly."  
  
Duo rolled over on his side. "You really are beautiful, you know," he whispered.  
  
Heero reached up and ghosted a finger across Duo's nose, and across his lips. "So are you," he said.  
  
Duo leaned down for a kiss. "Touch me?" he said afterwards. "Its funny, I spend all day touching other people, but no one ever touches me."  
  
Heero ran his hands down Duo's chest, "Like this?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," Duo breathed. "Like that, everywhere," he murmured.  
  
Duo felt his skin come alive under the other man's touches and caresses.  
  
Finally only his burgeoning erection was neglected.  
  
"I think I need a little attention there," gasped Duo, pulling one of Heero's hands closer to his need.  
  
He opened his eyes. "You too?"  
  
A wordless nod was his reply.  
  
"Looks as though I'll have to change the sheets after all," whispered Duo. 


	11. Chapter ElevenLEMON

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina In Genre: Romance, Adventure Pairing: 1+2, 3+4, 5+S, 13+6 Warnings: Citrus, Language, Yaoi, AU Rating: R Archived: S_E Udates, FF.net  
  
Chapter 11  
  
"Knock it off, Rusty," mumbled Duo, brushing languidly at the wetness on his face.  
  
"Is my breath really that bad?" asked an amused voice. "I brushed my teeth."  
  
"Rusty can talk?" thought Duo hazily. He slowly opened one eye, and saw tousled brown hair and intense dark blue eyes hovering above him.  
  
"Rusty, when did you learn to talk?" he murmured.  
  
"Do you watch a lot of Disney movies?" asked Heero, looking bemused.  
  
"'Lady and the Tramp' always made me cry," said Duo incoherently. "Tell anyone and I'll rip your heart out with my bare hands."  
  
"I see you're not a morning person," said Heero, sitting up and stretching his back.  
  
"I'll give you a life-altering blowjob if you bring me coffee," begged Duo.  
  
"Hm, a deal worthy of Donald Trump," said Heero, reaching for his clothes.  
  
"I accept your offer of a future merger," he added, after he'd pulled on his boxers.  
  
"Ooh, baby, more sexy lawyer talk," said Duo, sarcastically, rolling over and burying his head in the pillow. "Please say 'habeas corpus', it gets me so hot."  
  
He yelped as a firm hand smacked his bare backside.  
  
"Hey, no kinky shit," he grumbled, "at least not until I wake up enough to enjoy it."  
  
He felt the mattress shift as Heero stood up.  
  
"Where you going?" yawned Duo, rolling over.  
  
"To make coffee," said Heero. "I always fulfill my part of a contract."  
  
"Hey," said Duo softly, sitting up.  
  
"What?" Heero turned around.  
  
"I just wanted to say, I mean, I have to say something," he began. "Great," he thought ironically, "Great time to discover my inarticulate side."  
  
Heero came back and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting.  
  
"Um, thanks," Duo mumbled, ducking his head a little.  
  
"For what?" asked Heero, leaning over and pressing his forehead against the other man's.  
  
"Everything," whispered Duo. "It was really great, I mean it. Parts of me are still applauding."  
  
"For me also," said Heero. "Do you want breakfast?"  
  
"In a minute," said Duo, reaching up to drag his fingers through silky brown hair. "I'd kiss you silly but I bet my mouth tastes like the floor of a taxi cab full of incontinent drunks."  
  
"Then go brush your teeth," suggested Heero, "While I make breakfast."  
  
"In romance novels, everyone has breath like raspberries and chocolate," said Duo, sitting up and scrubbing his eyes. "Even first thing in the morning. That's how you can tell its fiction."  
  
He blew into his palm and sniffed, wrinkling his nose. "Just what I thought, monkey ass breath."  
  
"Um, I wouldn't know," said Heero. "Never read one. A romance novel, I mean."  
  
"Seriously?" asked Duo, standing up and walking au naturel to the bathroom.  
  
"Seriously," repeated Heero, transfixed by the sway of Duo's loose hair swishing around his naked form.  
  
"Man, my hair is so tangled," said Duo tragically, running his fingers through the thigh length tresses. "I fell asleep with it still wet from the shower, not good."  
  
"Why do you keep it, then, if it's such a bother?" said Heero, curious. "Not that I'm complaining," he added hastily.  
  
Duo turned around and looked at him for a few seconds. "It's mine," he said cryptically, finally, then turned and walked into the bathroom.  
  
Heero rose and went into the kitchen to make breakfast, wondering what those words meant.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Long distance phone call for you, Mr. Marquise," said Millie, their middle aged secretary. She smiled professionally at him and looked over her bifocals indicating the phone. "Switzerland, I believe."  
  
"I'll take it in Mr. Kushrenada's office," said Zechs, going inside.  
  
Trieze looked up from his laptop. "I need to take a call in here," explained Zechs.  
  
"Switzerland," he added, picking up the receiver.  
  
Trieze eyes widened with comprehension and he went back to his spreadsheet.  
  
"Milliard, is that you?" asked a soft female voice.  
  
"Yes, it's me," said Zechs, a smile softening his features. "How are you, Relena? Everything all right?"  
  
"I'm fine," said Relena, shifting her books to the other arm to cradle the receiver. "I just wanted to hear your voice," she said plaintively.  
  
"Do you need anything?" asked Zechs. "I know how things can come up at the last minute."  
  
"I'm spoiled rotten to the envy of all my friends and you know it," said Relena, and Zechs could imagine the eye roll that accompanied that statement. "I didn't call you to ask for more money," she said.  
  
"I never implied that your motives were purely mercenary, dear," said Zechs. "And you're not spoiled, you're too sweet for that."  
  
"You flatter me," said Relena, giggling a bit. "But, the reason I called is that I have vacation coming up, and I so want to spend it with you."  
  
There was a pregnant pause. "Lena, I don't know if that's safe for you, darling," Zechs finally said, and Trieze looked up at the sad tone in his voice, closing his laptop.  
  
"Surely I can come visit you there," pleaded Relena. "I came for Christmas," she added.  
  
"Winter is the off-season," sighed Zechs. "And we had no clients staying here. No risk of anyone seeing us together."  
  
"Milliard," she said pouted. "I miss you, and you're the only family I have now. Why can't I be there for a few weeks of my summer vacation? You're just being paranoid. We haven't heard anything in years."  
  
"You know why, Lena, don't be a child," said Zechs firmly. "If I knew for sure they weren't still looking for us, I'd have you here always. You know that." His voice softened at the last.  
  
"I hate this," said Relena, biting her lip to keep tears from spilling.  
  
"You have friends there you can be with, darling," said Zechs consolingly.  
  
"Not the same," he heard the tears in her voice and swallowed.  
  
"I'm sorry, Lena," he said softly. "I won't have you risk it."  
  
"Good-bye, Mil," she said huskily. "I love you."  
  
Before he could respond in kind, the connection was broken.  
  
"Goddamn it all," he swore, slamming down the receiver.  
  
Trieze raised an eyebrow. "Breaking my phone won't help," he said quietly.  
  
"I don't want to hear it," said Zechs moodily, and sat down on the red leather sofa in Trieze office. "Got anything to drink around here?" he asked in a hoarse voice.  
  
"It's 10:00 in the morning, love," said Trieze, standing up and walking over to the sofa. He sat down next to Zechs, crossing his legs and throwing his arm across the back of the sofa in a languid pose.  
  
"It must be 5:00 o'clock somewhere," said Zechs with a dark chuckle.  
  
"If you must, in the bottom drawer of my desk," said Trieze.  
  
"Forget it," sighed Zechs after a few moments of rubbing his temples. "Just a wild impulse."  
  
He felt a warm hand rub a small circle of comfort on his back.  
  
"I'm not entirely against you going with your wilder impulses, you know."  
  
"Have any appointments this morning?" asked Zechs, looking at the door.  
  
"No, not until after lunch," said Trieze.  
  
Zechs got up and locked the office door. "Good," he said shortly.  
  
He walked back to the sofa, stripping off his shirt and throwing it carelessly on the floor, then toeing off his shoes. But the time he got to the sofa, he was completely nude.  
  
Trieze smiled at the predatory gleam in his lover's ice blue eyes.  
  
"Am I about to be seduced in my office?" he purred, lying back on the sofa and throwing back his head to expose his throat.  
  
"No, you're about to be ravished in your office," growled Zechs, kneeling next to the sofa. "Get out of these things," he demanded, pulling at Trieze's clothes.  
  
"Aren't you glad I spent the extra money on soundproofing?" whispered Trieze, shifting his hips up to facilitate the hasty removal of his clothes.  
  
"Let's make sure and get our money's worth, by all means," said Zechs roughly. He leaned in to place a bruising kiss upon his lover's mouth.  
  
"Impatient, aren't we?" asked Trieze, his blue eyes dancing. "It's in the cabinet in the bathroom."  
  
"I remember," said Zechs, walking into the adjoining bath and coming back a few seconds later with a small bottle.  
  
"Coconut?" he asked, looking at it. He raised one pale eyebrow.  
  
Trieze shrugged lightly.  
  
Zechs smiled. "You're the only person I know who looks totally elegant and composed bare naked on a couch waiting to get his ass plowed," he said, finally. He took a deep breath and sat down on the sofa next to the other man. "  
  
"It's a gift," said Trieze, smirking. He reached up and pulled the blond man against tightly against him, thrusting up his hips and running his tongue along the edge of an earlobe.  
  
"And who says it's me going to get my ass plowed, you self-assuming bastard?" he whispered silkily.  
  
Zechs chuckled hoarsely. "Turnabout is fair play, n'est pas, mon amour?" he said.  
  
"Mil," said Trieze, gently rubbing his mouth along the other man's shoulder from behind. Zechs stiffened in the other man's embrace at the sound of his true name.  
  
"Probably not a good idea to get used to calling me that," he whispered sadly.  
  
"No one else can hear us," said Trieze, running a long fingered hand across a hipbone and lingering there before traveling over a firm round buttock. "I long to use the name I first called you by. Especially when we're like this. I want to feel close to you, the real you."  
  
"Not safe," murmured Zechs, surrendering to the intimate touch of his lover and gasping as he was prepared for the intimate joining of their bodies.  
  
"Trieze!" he called out sharply, a few minutes later.  
  
"I love you, Mil," the red-haired man ground out between clenched teeth as he too spent his passion.  
  
"Not safe," said the blond man almost inaudibly as a rain of small kisses was trailed down the back of his neck, now covered with a fine sheen of perspiration.  
  
"You're safe here," murmured Trieze against his pale hair.  
  
After a few minutes the lull of post-orgasmic languor was interrupted by a ringing telephone.  
  
Zechs tried to sit up but was pulled back down into a tight embrace upon the over-sized sofa.  
  
"Leave it," said Trieze. "That's what I hired Millie for. She's more than capable of answering the blasted phone."  
  
"It might be Relena again," protested Zechs.  
  
"Even if it is, there's nothing more you can say to her, in any case, is there?" he said to the blond man quietly. "Why needlessly upset yourself?"  
  
"No," Zechs agreed reluctantly. "Nothing more to say."  
  
"Then lie back down next to me and compliment me on my great skills as a lover," said Trieze, in a humorous tone. "  
  
Zechs chuckled. "There's nothing I can add that will make you think that anymore than you already do."  
  
"But, it's nice to hear," said Trieze playfully. "I enjoy having my ego stroked as much as anyone. More, probably." He mock pouted, causing Zechs to lean over and place a kiss on his lower lip.  
  
"That's not what I want to stroke," teased Zechs. "Although you do have a rather large.ego."  
  
"By all means," said Trieze, shifting his position on the warm leather of the sofa. "But let's do it in the shower, shall we?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	12. Chapter Twelve, LIME

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Adventure, Gundam Wing Pairing: 5+S, 3+4, 1+2, 13+6 Warnings: Citrus, Yaoi, AU, Language Rating: R Archived: S_E Updates, FF.net. GWFF  
  
Synopsis: Wufei, a Hollywood stuntman, takes his entourage to an exclusive and remote Rocky Mountain resort and spa to recover from an injury. A much- needed respite becomes a chance for romance and adventure. Pairings both Het and Yaoi!  
  
Chapter 12  
  
"Does that hurt?" asked Sally, watching her client's face for signs of pain or stress.  
  
"No," he said, gritting his teeth as he pulled the overhead weight down one more time. Sweat ran down his face and neck and disappeared under his tank top. She noticed his hair was soaked too.  
  
She'd quickly learned that Wufei would rarely complain about pain, and invariably drove himself harder than necessary. Realizing that, she monitored him closely and resolved not to hesitate to get in his face if he over-did it.  
  
Like he was doing at the moment.  
  
"This is the last set," Sally said, her voice in "no argument" mode.  
  
"I can do 3 more," panted Wufei.  
  
"Whether you 'can' or not is not the issue," said Sally, frowning and getting in his line of vision. "What we want is what is best for your recovery. This isn't an endurance test."  
  
He exhaled and stared at her challengingly for a count of three or four seconds, then released the bar.  
  
"Very well, I bow to your superior wisdom," said Wufei, with a hint of humor in his dark eyes.  
  
Sally gave a small laugh. "Wow, that was too easy, I usually have to argue with you for a few minutes. I kind of miss it."  
  
He arched a thin brow at her. "I can remedy that omission if you wish," he said.  
  
She handed him a towel and he wiped the sweat off his face and neck.  
  
"I think a sauna and a massage are in order, or you'll be very sore tomorrow," said Sally, trying to ignore the smooth ripple of muscles in his arms under bronzed skin as he patted his face with the towel.  
  
She mentally slapped herself. She worked around and with outstanding physical specimens all the time; she was in the "beautiful body" business to some extent, after all. This shouldn't be any different than working with any other client.  
  
But, it was.  
  
She deciding looking at something else would be a good idea right at the moment.  
  
"I'll see if Duo can be ready for you in about half an hour, all right?" she asked, looking out of the nearby window at a stately pine tree.  
  
"Is something wrong?" asked Wufei, trying to follow the direction of her stare.  
  
"No, what would be wrong?" asked Sally. Oh unholy hormones, she thought, he's taken off the tank top. She averted her gaze to a potted fern in the corner of the large exercise room.  
  
"Either something is wrong or you have an inordinate obsession with flora," said Wufei.  
  
She looked up. He was laughing at her. Not overtly, but his eyes were shining with silent amusement.  
  
"I'm busted, aren't I?" asked Sally, having the grace to look thoroughly embarrassed.  
  
"It can be awkward when a relationship changes from purely professional to a more personal one. The boundaries are being re-drawn," said Wufei.  
  
"Is that your very wordy way of saying that we're becoming friends?" asked Sally. "At least, I hope so."  
  
"I hope so, too," admitted Wufei. "But, I am a cautious person. I'm rather solitary by nature, and I will probably end up frustrating you to no end with my bluntness and stubbornness."  
  
"You're admitting you can be hard-headed, touchy and hard to get close to," said Sally. She grinned.  
  
"It sounds so much better when I say it," frowned Wufei.  
  
Sally laughed. The momentary tension was eased and she once again felt comfortable around this man who was slowly becoming her friend. Well, some part of her wanted it to be more than merely friends, but she was keeping tight leash on that.  
  
"That" could be messy and complicated. Life had just recently become emotionally bearable again, and although undeniably lonely, it beat the hell out of being a grieving lump of pain.  
  
"So, we're friends?" she asked, needing some sort of verbal confirmation.  
  
"Of course," said Wufei. "But, I'm still aware that you're sometimes uncomfortable around me. Maybe we should discuss it. I don't want anything to interfere with my therapy."  
  
Sally sighed inwardly. So close to.. something? And then right back to square one.  
  
"I don't want to discuss it right now," she said bluntly. She put a professionally cheerful face on. "You need to take that sauna before you stiffen up," she said.  
  
She picked up a nearby phone on the wall and after a few minutes of conversation, hung up and came back.  
  
"Duo is free in an hour," she said. "So take your time, but don't get too overheated. You just had a pretty hard workout."  
  
"I understand," said Wufei. He flexed his shoulder a few times. "Yes, it's a bit sore," he said, scowling at the pain as if that would intimidate it into a retreat.  
  
"I told you," said Sally, shaking her head. "Maybe we'll skip tomorrow's session."  
  
"No," said Wufei. "NO delays."  
  
"If I say no session," said Sally, hardening her voice a bit, "There will be no session, understand?"  
  
That earned her a fierce scowl. "Don't I have a say in this?" he asked with carefully controlled anger. It bubbled under the surface calm and made his voice harsh. "After all, it is MY shoulder we are discussing."  
  
"And this is MY therapy room and MY program we are using, Mister!" said Sally, instinctively pulling out her former officer's training and demeanor.  
  
Wufei blinked. "I haven't been called 'mister' in that tone in a while," he said, reining in his temper.  
  
Sally swallowed. "I haven't called anyone 'mister' in that tone in a while," she said.  
  
They each stood with arms folded and chin thrust in the air, unconsciously mirroring each other's defensive stance.  
  
At the same moment, the tension dissipated and they grinned at each other.  
  
"Draw," said Wufei, holding out his hand.  
  
"Truce," said Sally, taking his offered hand and shaking it solemnly.  
  
"I'm impressed," said Wufei, turning to walk toward the sauna room. "You're as stubborn as I am."  
  
Sally nodded as he walked away. "You have no idea," she whispered.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Of course I know how to ride a horse," said Quatre, irritably.  
  
"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Blondie" said Trowa, handing him the reins. "I just wanted to be sure."  
  
"Don't you know all rich kids have ponies?" asked Quatre, expertly putting the opposite foot in the stirrup and levering his other leg over the animal's back.  
  
"Well, I rented these lovely steeds for the day," said Trowa, "So, lets not waste time."  
  
"So, what's the agenda for today?" asked Quatre cheerfully.  
  
Trowa jumped up smoothly onto his dappled gray Arabian [1] gelding in one fluid motion from behind. The apparently well-trained horse merely grunted slightly at the sudden weight on his back from out of nowhere.  
  
Quatre raised a flaxen eyebrow. "Show off," he muttered. He reached down and petted the neck of his sorrel and white Pinto mare as she jumped slightly at the nearby movement.  
  
"Don't be scared of the circus boy, horsy. I won't let him do that to you."  
  
"We're going to ride up to this small meadow I found the other day while hiking," said Trowa, ignoring his partners' teasing comment. "Then we shall eat this picnic lunch, then ride back. Nothing complicated." He patted a picnic blanket and a wicker basket strapped to his saddle.  
  
"I can handle that," said Quatre. "Lead the way, Kimosabe." He snickered.  
  
"I am not the Lone Ranger," said Trowa, urging his horse forward.  
  
"Okay, you can be Tonto," said Quatre equitably. "I'll be the Lone Ranger. High-ho, Pinto, away!" He gave his mare a nudge with his boot heels.  
  
Trowa resigned himself to being called "Tonto" for the next half hour.  
  
Since Quatre had been moping around their room the last two days watching drivel on TV and eating junk food, the smiles and gentle teasing were a welcome change.  
  
They rode along a well-worn path up and down the gentle hills surrounding the inn. Clumps of buffalo grass and sagebrush dotted the hillsides, and the Montana sky was a clear crystalline blue.  
  
Trowa took a deep breath of the invigorating morning air.  
  
"You're enjoying this, aren't you, nature boy?" asked Quatre, as they rode side by side.  
  
"Actually, I was thinking that the sky reminds me of your eyes," said Trowa.  
  
"Corny, but I like it," Quatre chuckled. "I had no idea you were so poetic," he said.  
  
"I'm glad you're in a better mood," Trowa said softly. "I've been worried about you."  
  
"I'm sorry," said Quatre. "It was just something I had to work out in my head. So, this is where you went while I had my pity party?"  
  
"I went for a walk on this trail, yes," said Trowa. "I thought where it leads to would make a nice place for a picnic."  
  
"'A loaf of bread, a jug of wine and thee,'" quoted Quatre.  
  
"Now who's being corny?" asked Trowa.  
  
"But, I am corny," said Quatre, laughing a bit. "I freely admit it."  
  
"There's nothing wrong with being emotional," said Trowa.  
  
"Yes, but sometimes I admire your calm detachment," said Quatre, sighing.  
  
"You have it," said Trowa. "Take advantage of it whenever you feel the need. Although, I'm hardly detached when it comes to you."  
  
"I know," said Quatre. "It's just that when you lead with the heart, you get sucker punched there once in a while."  
  
"I can't be sorry if your heart led you to me," Trowa said.  
  
Quatre smiled, a contented, genuine smile that reached his eyes.  
  
"How much farther?" he asked, "As much as I'm enjoying the scenery, I'm beginning to realize how long it's been since I've been horseback riding. "  
  
"We're almost there," said Trowa. "Look, up there by that grove of trees." He pointed.  
  
The rode along the trail which reached its end in a small grassy clearing next to where a winding creek burbled over rocks. Wildflowers dotted the grass, adding small bursts of bright color to the green.  
  
"It's perfect," exclaimed Quatre, dismounting from his horse and holding the reins. He walked his mare over to a nearby tree and wrapped the reins around it once, securing them.  
  
Trowa was doing the same with his mount, unstrapping the basket and the thick picnic blanket.  
  
He spread out the blanket under another aspen tree and set the basket down to one side.  
  
"Come and sit with me," he invited the blond man, holding out his hand.  
  
Quatre came over and took the offered hand, sitting down cross-legged.  
  
"This is nice," he said, looking around. "Thank you for bringing me here."  
  
"Defnitely beats reruns of Gilligan's Island and greasy cheeseburgers," said Trowa.  
  
Quatre settled his head on the other man's lap, stretching his legs out. He looked up into the face of his companion with shy speculation.  
  
"I wonder how alone we are here?" he asked.  
  
"Very," said Trowa. "I was here 2 hours the other day and no one else came near."  
  
"Ah, now I know why you brought me here," said Quatre, waggling his brows suggestively.  
  
"Well, I did start to wonder when I was here the other day what it would be like to make love to you in a field of wildflowers."  
  
Trowa leaned over to capture warm and yielding lips. Arms wrapped around the taller man's neck.  
  
"That's quite a romantic imagination you have," said Quatre in hushed tones when the kiss ended.  
  
"Surprised?" asked Trowa, smiling.  
  
"Not really," said Quatre.  
  
"After four years, no surprises left, I suppose," said Trowa.  
  
"Don't say that," said Quatre. "Besides, there's a lot to be said for simply being able to relax and be yourself."  
  
"Knowing where all the ticklish spots are is good too."  
  
Quatre yelped as a finger dug into his ribs.  
  
"Knowing where someone likes to be kissed is good."  
  
Narrowed blue eyes traveled over the lanky form in front of them and then focused on a specific target.  
  
Quatre swiftly attacked.  
  
A muffled sound of surprise followed the all out assault on Trowa's neck.  
  
"Quatre the Vampire strikes again," gasped Trowa, beginning to laugh in earnest.  
  
"Now, there's a lovely sound," said Quatre, after releasing the suction he was sustaining on a small section of skin on the pulse in Trowa's neck. He looked proudly at the livid red mark he had made.  
  
"A masterpiece," he crowed. "I am the hickey artist extraordinaire!"  
  
"And everyone wonders why I always wear turtlenecks," Trowa sighed dramatically, still breathless from laughter.  
  
"So, I have a neck fetish," shrugged Quatre. "It could be worse, you could have ended up with a toe-sucker."  
  
"I always look like someone tried to throttle me." The auburn-haired man rubbed his neck a little, grinning ruefully.  
  
"Want me to kiss it and make it better?" asked Quatre slyly.  
  
"Must explain to you the difference between a kiss and a bite someday," murmured Trowa, leaning back on his elbows.  
  
"Just a demonstration please," said Quatre, pushing him down on the blanket. "And, I'm a very slow learner, so I'll need many, many hours of advanced lessons."  
  
"No scaring the horses," warned Trowa.  
  
Quatre's laugh rang out through the clearing. "They'll just have get over it."  
  
[1] There's a very bad joke in there somewhere, but I'm not touching it with a ten-foot pole, okay? 


	13. Chapter Thirteen, LIME

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Adventure Pairing: 13+6, 1+2, 3+4, 5+S Warnings: Citrus, Language, AU, Yaoi Rating: R Archived: S_E Updates, GWFF, FF.net  
  
Chapter 13  
  
"So, this is where you're staying?" asked Wufei, when Heero answered the door to Duo's house.  
  
Heero ushered him inside. "Duo was kind enough to let me use his guest room."  
  
"You sleeping with him?" asked Wufei, folding his arms.  
  
"Right to the point as usual," Heero observed.  
  
Wufei noticed the open laptop on the dining room table. "I knew you couldn't resist," he said, walking over to the device.  
  
Heero stood in front of the display. "I'll pay up," he said, shrugging indifferently.  
  
"You didn't answer my question about Maxwell," said Wufei.  
  
"What do you care?" asked Heero levelly.  
  
"I care about you. Look up "care", Heero, it's no doubt under the definition of 'friend'."  
  
"We've been..intimate," said Heero, uncomfortably.  
  
"I guess it really is none of my business," said Wufei, softening his expression. "I'm worried about you, Heero. What the hell is up with you anyway? Punching out that security guard, jumping in the sack with the first good looking guy that comes along, loosing it at a simple dinner party?"  
  
Heero sat down heavily. "Same thing that's always been wrong with me, Wufei."  
  
"I thought that was all behind you. Behind us," Wufei amended.  
  
"I keep seeing it," said Heero shortly. "It hasn't gone away. Somehow, you have conquered this and I have not."  
  
"My demons are still there, Heero," said Wufei softly. He sat down next to Heero. "But, I never tried to pretend they didn't exist."  
  
"Duo said I'm trying to go around it instead of through it," reflected Heero. "Maybe he's right."  
  
"Duo is correct," said Wufei. "I survived by honoring Triton's memory, his bravery, his sacrifice. I don't want to forget it. But then, I forgave myself for his death also. That is the first step. We didn't kill him, Heero. You didn't kill him. If he were here, he'd tell you that himself. "  
  
"You need to take your own advice, Chang," said Heero harshly. "You talk about forgiving yourself, but you haven't even looked at another woman since Meilan died. You live like some sort of fucking monument of self- denial to her memory."  
  
"That's different," said Wufei tightly, clenching his fists. "That WAS my fault. I killed her. An accident, but I'm responsible, nonetheless."  
  
"Bullshit!" said Heero. "You're so full of shit."  
  
Wufei stood up. "I'm leaving," he announced. "Because if I don't, I'm probably going to kick your sorry ass all over this room."  
  
"I could always take you, Chang," snarled Heero. "Especially in the shape you're in now."  
  
"Go hump your laptop," said Wufei coldly. "I'm leaving."  
  
"Gee, guys, did I interrupt something?" asked Duo with a nervous laugh from the front doorway.  
  
Heero and Wufei glared at him respectively.  
  
"I heard yelling, so I came in to see what the hell is going on," said Duo.  
  
"I was just leaving," said Wufei, pushing past Duo in the entryway.  
  
He turned, "I'm sorry to be so rude," he said to Duo, then left.  
  
"He looks royally pissed," said Duo with studied casualness as Wufei strode stiffly out the door.  
  
"Fucking hypocrite," said Heero under his breath.  
  
"Wanna tell me what that was all about?" asked Duo.  
  
"No," said Heero.  
  
"Back to monosyllables," said Duo. "Not a good sign."  
  
Heero glared at him. "This has nothing to do with you."  
  
Duo's eyes frosted over with sudden anger.  
  
"No, I'm just the guy you fuck," said Duo, his voice edgy with sarcasm. "The guy whose house you're living in at the moment, so it's none of my business.  
  
"I can remedy that quite easily," said Heero, walking past him down the hall.  
  
"Where are you going?" asked Duo, following him a few paces behind.  
  
"I'm getting my things," said Heero woodenly. "I'll be gone in half an hour."  
  
"What?" exclaimed Duo. His stomach clenched violently.  
  
"I never said you had to leave," Duo said tightly. "But, I can see that's sort of a pattern with you. Boy, I thought I was the run and hide type, but you've got me beat all to hell and back. "  
  
"What?" asked Heero, turning around from grabbing his bags from the small closet. He dropped them.  
  
"I need everyone to get out of my head," he said, sitting heavily on the bed and running a hand through his unruly hair.  
  
"The only person who needs to get out of your head is you," said Duo angrily.  
  
"What is that supposed to mean?" asked Heero, looking confused.  
  
"You figure it out," said Duo. "I've been sitting here the last two nights watching the back of your head while you make love to your laptop, then you crawl off to this room. I mean, I'm not so narcissistic I need your attention every minute of the goddamn day, but acknowledging I'm alive once in a while would be nice."  
  
Heero gave a short bark of laughter. "Wufei told me to go hump my laptop."  
  
Duo walked over and sat down next to the other man, pressing their shoulders together.  
  
"I think your friend Wufei cares an awful lot about you or he could never get under your skin like this."  
  
Heero lay back on the bed. "My head hurts," he whispered.  
  
Duo put his hand on Heero's stomach. "That's because you're so tense, I could do my ironing on you," he said. "If I actually ever did any ironing," he added offhandedly.  
  
Heero snorted. Duo felt the tightness under his hand relax a bit.  
  
"Roll over," said Duo gently. "I'll get rid of your headache." He reached up to Heero's neck and began to rub the tense muscles.  
  
"Duo," came Heero's muffled voice from against the coverlet.  
  
"What?" asked Duo, kneeling and straddling the other man's thighs to finish the massage.  
  
"I'm sorry I ignored you," said Heero. "You're right about me. I was going to leave. Over nothing."  
  
"Well, you did warn me you were not always a nice person," said Duo, shrugging. "At least you're honest," he chuckled. He his hands down and gently squeezed the tense muscles of Heero's tense shoulders.  
  
"Off," he commanded, tugging at the bottom of Heero's black shirt. Heero raised himself onto his elbow and undid the top buttons and Duo pulled the shirt off over his head as though he were a sleepy child.  
  
"I killed him."  
  
"Who?" asked Duo, his eyes widening and hands hesitating on Heero's shoulders for fleeting moment.  
  
"Triton," Heero said. "If I'd followed the order to retreat, he'd still be alive."  
  
"Triton was Trowa's brother," said Duo, nodding to himself.  
  
"How do you know that?" asked Heero, stiffening in surprise under Duo's hands.  
  
"Wufei said something about to Sally and me," said Duo.  
  
"What did he say?" asked Heero flatly.  
  
"That you three were captured, and Triton died of his wounds. That's all."  
  
"He didn't tell you how it happened?" asked Heero quietly, his voice barely audible.  
  
"No," replied Duo. "You don't exactly press someone you hardly know for details about that sort of thing. But, he never said anything about it being your fault."  
  
"Wufei would never say that," sighed Heero. "But that doesn't make it any less true."  
  
"The bad guys killed him, Heero," said Duo. "Is that so hard to accept?"  
  
"We should never have been there in the first place!" cried Heero, burying his face in the bed's coverlet. "The bad guys are just guys," he said, his voice becoming quieter. "They bleed red exactly like we do."  
  
"Easy!" breathed Duo, feeling Heero's body become completely rigid underneath him.  
  
"Gave me a goddamn fucking medal for killing my friend," said Heero mournfully.  
  
Duo felt a shudder pass through Heero, but there was no sound.  
  
He pressed his cheek against Heero's back. The small patch of scar tissue there felt rough against his cheek.  
  
"No more running," whispered Duo. "This thing is going to have you whether you want it to or not. So just let it. I promise you won't die. It'll hurt, but you won't die. It gets better, I promise."  
  
"Stay with me?" asked Heero roughly. "When I'm alone, that's the worst, it won't stop." He reached up and pulled at his hair in a despairing gesture.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere." Duo slid alongside Heero so he could see his face, and put his arm over him.  
  
"Why do you want me?" asked Heero plaintively in a choked voice, looking away. "I'm terrible at this..this," he made a vague gesture with his hand.  
  
"I dunno," said Duo honestly. "That probably says something about me. It's not like I've figured any of this relationship crap out either. I mean, my last boyfriend was a drunk who thought my head resembled a punching bag. "  
  
"You're a good person," said Heero. Duo snorted softly in denial. "I wish," he said quietly.  
  
"You care," said Heero. "Wufei said it too; I work hard at not caring. It's become my profession, literally."  
  
"Or maybe you care too much," said Duo. "It can hurt to care."  
  
"I'm hurting you," stated Heero staring into Duo's eyes.  
  
"I don't expect a pain free existence," countered Duo, "But, if you care about someone, I think at least you can try not to hurt them."  
  
"I was ignoring you because I'm starting to care too much," blurted Heero, out of nowhere.  
  
"I know," said Duo gently brushing his thumb across Heero's lips. "I kind of figured that out. I love you too."  
  
"Aishiteru," said Heero, reaching out to cup Duo's face in his hand.  
  
"I hope that means what I think it means," said Duo, smiling and nuzzling Heero's hand.  
  
"It does."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Sally was outside watering the flowers in the backyard.  
  
"Mom!" yelled Matthew, legs pumping as he swung back and forth. "Look how high I am!"  
  
"Higher than the sky!" called Sally. She shaded her eyes with her hand and looked up into the afternoon sunshine.  
  
"Sally?" she jumped as she heard a familiar voice.  
  
"Wufei?" she said. She went over and unlocked the gate to the back yard.  
  
"How did you get here?" she asked.  
  
"I walked," he said shortly. "It's only a mile or so."  
  
"Can I get you something to drink?" she asked politely. "Please, come in out of the sun. It's hot."  
  
"Thank you," he said, coming into the cool shade of the trees in the yard.  
  
"I'm sorry to come by uninvited," he began, "But I started walking and somehow, I ended up here."  
  
Sally looked him carefully. "You're upset about something."  
  
He jerked up his head. "I suppose that is obvious," he admitted.  
  
"Come and sit down and I'll get you a drink first."  
  
"Water, please," he said allowing himself to be lead to the deck. He sat on cushioned rattan loveseat.  
  
"I'll be right back."  
  
Wufei sat and wrung his hands.  
  
"Wufei" said Matt, jumping off the swing and running over. "Did you come to visit me?" asked the boy, climbing up on the deck. "I got a new Pikachu, you wanna see it?"  
  
"Of course," said Wufei, composing his features. "Although I do not know what a Pikachu is, exactly."  
  
Matt laughed. "You don't know anything about cool stuff," he said. "But that's okay," he added consolingly. "Most grown ups don't."  
  
"Thank you for being so understanding," said Wufei, beginning to calm down. His mouth quirked with a small smile.  
  
"Here's your water," said Sally, coming out of the French doors and handing him a tall glass of ice water. She had another one in her hand and sat it down on the wicker table.  
  
"Matt, I called Brian's mom and he wants you to come over and see his new goldfish."  
  
"Brian lives next door," explained Matt. "Can I go now, Mom?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, dear, I'm sure he meant for you to come right away."  
  
"I'm not a deer," complained Matt.  
  
"Brian is waiting for you," said Sally. "Be sure and shut the gate on your way out."  
  
Matt looked up at Wufei. "I'll have to show you Pikachu later," he said breezily. "Sorry!" He ran across the yard and slid out the gate, making sure it clicked on the way out.  
  
"What's up?" asked Sally, taking a sip of her water.  
  
"Did you know that Duo Maxwell and Heero Yuy have become lovers?" Wufei asked her.  
  
"I wondered," said Sally casually. "It certainly explains the singing." She grinned. "Duo has a tendency to sing when he's happy."  
  
"This should not have happened," said Wufei, frowning.  
  
"Surely, you don't have any objections," asked Sally, raising her eyebrows. "You don't strike me as the homophobic type."  
  
"NO!" said Wufei, setting down his water so hard it sloshed over the side of the glass. "It's not right for Heero to do this to Maxwell. I know him, Sally, he is not capable of sustaining an intimate relationship. He pushes people away. He can't help it, he's afraid."  
  
"Duo is a big boy," said Sally. "I think he knows what he's getting into."  
  
"This is not good," said Wufei.  
  
"You're really upset about this, aren't you?" asked Sally kindly.  
  
"Of COURSE I'm upset!" said Wufei, his voice rising.  
  
"If you're going to yell," said Sally mildly. "We'll have to go inside."  
  
"I'm NOT yelling," he whispered fiercely.  
  
"This can't be about Duo," said Sally. "At least not all of it."  
  
"I went over to Duo's to confront Heero," said Wufei. He sat back and folded his arms.  
  
"I take it that it didn't go too well," said Sally dryly.  
  
"Heero Yuy is a cold ass computer-fucking idiot!" yelled Wufei, slamming his hand down on the table, spilling his glass of water.  
  
"You spilled your water," said Sally pointing.  
  
"I'm sorry," whispered Wufei.  
  
"So," said Sally. "We've established that Heero Yuy has non-consensual sexual relations with electronic appliances. What else?"  
  
"You're making fun of me," said Wufei, his eyes widening in anger.  
  
"NO, I'm waiting, rather patiently, I might add, for you to tell me what the hell is really wrong," said Sally in a brittle voice.  
  
"If you want my help, you have to tell me what is really bothering you, or I can't do that."  
  
"This is not about me," Wufei said tersely. He pushed back a strand of hair that had come out of his ponytail, and tucked it behind his ear.  
  
"Would you like some more water?" asked Sally.  
  
"Yes, please," Wufei said, now somewhat embarrassed.  
  
Sally rose and retrieved the glass. "Come inside," she invited him.  
  
Wufei followed her inside the cool interior of the dining room, and into the kitchen.  
  
"Go sit on the sofa," she said, "And I'll bring you some more water."  
  
Wufei went into the living room. Sally came in a few seconds later with another glass of ice water and handed it to him. He was standing in front of the small fireplace, gazing at the various photos on the mantle.  
  
"Is that your husband's picture?" he asked, pointing to a photo of a dark haired handsome Asian man with smiling features.  
  
"Yes," said Sally. "Matt looks just like him, doesn't he?" She smiled fondly when she mentioned her son's name.  
  
"Yes, I see the resemblance," said Wufei. He took a long drink of water and carefully sat his glass down on a coaster on the coffee table.  
  
"Doesn't it bother you?" he finally asked.  
  
"What?" asked Sally, looking puzzled. "Bother me?"  
  
"To have all these reminders of him around you," said Wufei.  
  
"Why should it?" Sally asked. "He's gone, but I don't want to forget he ever existed."  
  
"I have no pictures of Meilan," he said. "Not displayed, anyway."  
  
"Meilan?" Sally repeated. "Was that your wife?"  
  
"Yes," said Wufei.  
  
"Pretty name," said Sally. "I've always hated mine," she confessed. She sat down her glass.  
  
"So, it was about her?" asked Sally. "What you and Heero argued about, I mean."  
  
"Yes," said Wufei. He sat down on the sofa. Sally sat down next to him and reached for his hand in a comforting gesture. He unconsciously shifted away.  
  
"I promise, I don't have cooties," joked Sally to cover her hurt at this small rejection.  
  
"I can't think when you're that close," said Wufei.  
  
"I think you've made it clear how you feel about me," said Sally coldly. "I'll try not to touch you anymore than necessary from now on."  
  
"I've hurt your feelings," he said quietly. "I'll go."  
  
"I think you should," said Sally stiffly. "You don't really want to talk to me, and you obviously find me repugnant, so there's no point to you being here. I will drive you back to the inn though. I don't want you to over- tire yourself; we have a lot of work to do tomorrow. Wait here and I'll call the neighbors and ask if Matt can stay until I get back."  
  
"You don't have to do that," said Wufei. "I don't find you 'repugnant'. Not at all."  
  
"You nearly flinch out of your skin every time I'm near you," Sally pointed out. "That usually means something is wrong."  
  
"It's not you," he said quietly. "It's me. Please don't be offended. I'm sorry."  
  
He sat down and massaged the back of his neck with his left hand.  
  
"Is your arm hurting you?" asked Sally, noticing that he wasn't using it.  
  
"No," he said. "I've just had a long miserable day and I'm very tense."  
  
"Well, you can't expect people to feel to sympathize with you if you refuse any form of human contact or comfort," said Sally.  
  
Wufei chuckled darkly, not a happy sound. "I just accused Heero Yuy of that very thing, and he told me I was a total hypocrite." He laughed ruefully again, shaking his head. "He was right, I'm such a goddamned hypocrite. Telling him to quit being such a cold bastard and I'm a bigger one than he is. You try to be nice to me and I treat you like you have a disease. I'm pathetic."  
  
Sally's eyes widened slowly and she sank back down on the sofa.  
  
"I should go before I make an even bigger fool of myself than I already am," said Wufei bitterly.  
  
"You don't have to go," said Sally. "Don't leave while you're so upset."  
  
"I've imposed on you enough," said Wufei wearily. "I'm tired, I hurt and I'm not very good company."  
  
"Just lie down on the sofa," insisted Sally. "It's not as if I haven't seen you in pain before. And when you're rested, I'll drive you back to the inn. Or, you can stay and have dinner here with Matt and I."  
  
"I couldn't," began Wufei.  
  
"You're doing it again," said Sally, rolling her eyes. "Quit pushing me away, ben dan, I'm only inviting you to dinner, not trying to seduce you."  
  
Wufei's eyes widened, and he blushed furiously. "What?" he asked hoarsely.  
  
"Do you really want me to repeat that?" asked Sally archly. "Try to take a nap, and I'll let you know when dinner is ready."  
  
Wufei slid his hands under his head and contemplated the ceiling as he heard Sally making noises in the kitchen. Before he drifted off into a comfortable sleep, he began to smell the beginnings of food cooking. Something spice- filled and wonderful, he thought sleepily.  
  
Somewhat later, Matt came in through the back door. "Mom!" he yelled, "I'm back."  
  
"Shh," said Sally. "Wufei is asleep on the sofa. Don't wake him."  
  
Matt crept into the living room to take a peek then came back.  
  
"He looks nicer when he's sleeping," said Matt. "Is he going to spend the night?" he asked innocently.  
  
Sally coughed. "I don't think so," she said, turning her head so Matt couldn't see her face flame.  
  
"He just staying for dinner."  
  
"Good, I can show him my Pikachu," said Matt.  
  
"Why don't you play in your room until dinner, honey?" asked Sally.  
  
"Okay," said Matt. "Can I watch cartoons?"  
  
"Sure," said Sally absently.  
  
"Can I have a candy bar?" asked Matt, pushing his luck.  
  
"Here," said Sally handing him a banana.  
  
"Darn it," said Matt. He took the banana. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen, LIME

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Adventure, Gundam Wing Pairing: 5+S, 3+4, 1+2, 13+6 Warnings: Citrus, Yaoi, AU, Language Rating: R Archived: S_E Updates, FF.net. GWFF  
  
Synopsis: Wufei, a Hollywood stuntman, takes his entourage to an exclusive spa to recover from an injury. A vacation becomes a chance for romance and adventure.  
  
"Wanna see my Pikachu?"  
  
Wufei experienced that momentary sense of unreality that comes when waking up in an unfamiliar place.  
  
"Wha?" he slurred, trying to orient himself. He opened his eyes and a yellow smiling thing hovered over his face. He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision.  
  
"Matt," he finally said, trying to sit up. He'd fallen asleep on Sally's sofa. "Where is your mother?"  
  
"She told me to wake you up. Time to eat. You make funny noises when you sleep."  
  
Wufei blinked again, trying to assimilate all this information delivered non-sequentially. Finally he said, "I'm sure I do not."  
  
Matt giggled at this denial. "Mom said you need to wash up. I'll show you the bathroom."  
  
Wufei stood up, stretching out a kink in his back. Matt looked up at him curiously.  
  
"Do you like my mom?" he asked.  
  
Wufei stopped in mid-stretch and looked down. Bright curious eyes awaited his answer. Wufei had been around very few children, and he was amazed at how perceptive this one was. Unexpectedly, he felt a surge of something akin to protectiveness.  
  
"We are...friends, I suppose," said Wufei carefully.  
  
Matt's eyes lit up. A huge grin split his gamin features, showing his missing front tooth. "Cool." He grabbed Wufei's hand and began to pull him in the direction of the hallway.  
  
"This is my room," he pointed to a door with a sign on it that said "Gonna catch-em all!" in bright crayon colors.  
  
He pointed again. "That's mom's room."  
  
He pointed a third time. "Bathroom." He let go of Wufei's hand. "Hurry and wash, I'm hungry!" he said, walking backwards a few steps, then turning and skipping down the hallway.  
  
Wufei returned a few minutes later. Matt and Sally had already sat down, and were waiting for him.  
  
"Sorry," he grunted, sitting down. "You could have woken me sooner."  
  
Sally smiled warmly at him. "I'm sure you needed it."  
  
"Did you like it?" blurted out Matt, reaching for a roll. Sally moved the dish closer to his hand intercepting him.  
  
Wufei gave him a blank look. "Like?" he repeated.  
  
"My Pikachu, remember?" asked Matt, rolling his eyes.  
  
"Leave Wufei alone about that," said Sally. "I'm sorry, this child has a one-track mind." She gave Wufei a knowing look.  
  
"Mom," protested Matt. "You said I could show him my Pikachu!"  
  
"It seems Matt takes promises very literally," observed Wufei with a small grin.  
  
" Please, tell me about Pikachu."  
  
A half-hour of streaming chatter later, Wufei was as completely conversant with the world of Pokemon as anyone could be who'd never seen it.  
  
"So, Team Rocket are the bad guys," said Wufei, "but they're funny, right?"  
  
"Yeah," said Matt. "And they have a talking cat. He's the only Pokemon who can talk [1]. They're always trying to get Pikachu, because he's the best Pokemon. James is kind of a sissy. Brian says Jesse is hot."  
  
Wufei raised his eyebrows as Sally coughed. "Matt!" she said.  
  
"Is 'hot' bad?" asked Matt, looking from Wufei to Sally.  
  
"No," Wufei answered first. "Hot is not bad. Your mother is just surprised that your friends talk like grown ups."  
  
"I think I need to have a talk with Brian's mother," murmured Sally, taking a long drink of water.  
  
"Nice catch," she said under her breath to Wufei.  
  
"Thank you," he said with exaggerated politeness.  
  
"I still don't know what hot means," complained Matt.  
  
"It means attractive," said Wufei.  
  
"Oh," said Matt. "What's attractive?"  
  
Sally snorted. "Try something more basic," she suggested.  
  
"It means, ah, someone who is nice to look at, pretty," said Wufei.  
  
"Like Mom," affirmed Matt, nodding. "Okay."  
  
"Why thank you, Matt," said Sally, snickering. "Or are you just trying to get seconds for dessert?" she teased.  
  
"No, you're pretty," said Matt seriously.  
  
"I think you're biased," said Sally.  
  
"What's biased?" asked Matt.  
  
"Try something more basic," Wufei recommended with mock seriousness, putting down his fork and sitting back, waiting. Sally resisted an urge to stick her tongue out at him.  
  
"It means you already love me," said Sally, after thinking a moment. "And that makes you think of me in a better way than a stranger would."  
  
"Are you biased?" Matt asked Wufei, still looking puzzled.  
  
"Yes, I am," said Wufei. "Very." He stared intently at Sally as he said it.  
  
Sally dropped her fork from suddenly nerveless fingers. "Matt, are you finished?" she asked to cover her reaction. She bent over to pick up the utensil. "Sorry, that was clumsy of me."  
  
"Yeah," said Matt, looking at his plate.  
  
"I'll get you some dessert then," said Sally, rising. "Would you like some?" she asked Wufei. He stood up with her. "Yes, I'll help you."  
  
"Oh, that's all right," said Sally evasively. "I can get it." She went into the kitchen.  
  
Wufei ignored that. "I'll get the plates."  
  
"All right," Sally relented. "You know where everything is."  
  
"Yes," he said.  
  
She was cutting squares of coconut cake. "That looks good," he said behind her. She jumped a little and turned half way around.  
  
He grabbed her wrist. "Careful with that," he said quietly, removing the sharp edged cake cutter from her now limp hand. "Someone might get hurt."  
  
"Yes," she gasped. Their faces were only a few centimeters apart and she felt warm breath on her hair and intent dark eyes roamed over her eyes and mouth. She felt light-headed and reached behind her to grip the counter.  
  
"Are you going to kiss me?" she whispered.  
  
He quietly placed the cutter he held on the countertop behind her, and now there was no space between their bodies. "Do you want me to?"  
  
"Oh, yes!" The words came out before she could check them. She flushed, thinking how needy it sounded in her own ears.  
  
He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with unexpected gentleness.  
  
"Mom!" said Matt. Wufei jerked his head back and took a step backwards.  
  
Sally swallowed. "What?" she said shakily. Their eyes were still locked.  
  
"Can I eat my cake in my room? I wanna watch Pokemon, please?"  
  
"Okay, but be careful. I'll get you a tray," said Sally, finally looking down and away.  
  
She turned around, trying to ignore the brush of her body against Wufei's as she did so.  
  
Picking up the cake server, she noticed that her hand was shaking.  
  
"Let me," said Wufei, taking the server and neatly cutting a piece of cake, then putting it on the plate. "Here, better take this to him." He stepped back so she could move away from her position against the countertop.  
  
"There's a tray in that cupboard," she said, pointing. Her hand was steady now, she noted with relief. "Would you?"  
  
He retrieved it for her. She sat the cake down on it and walked back out into the dining room.  
  
"Here you go," she said cheerfully. "Want me to take this in for you?  
  
"I can do it." Matt carefully balanced the small tray in his hands and disappeared down the hallway. Soon, the muffled sounds of a television were heard.  
  
"I'm a bad mother," said Sally, shaking her head as Wufei came up behind her. "Television as a baby sitter is not usually my style."  
  
"I think this time I'll forgive you," said Wufei in a low voice.  
  
"We can have ours out on the deck if you like," said Sally feeling her insides tighten at the tone in his voice. "It's warm out tonight."  
  
"Fine," said Wufei. He was unapologetically watching her as she got their dessert.  
  
He followed her out onto the deck and they sat down on the rattan loveseat, which had a small table in front of it.  
  
"Do you really want dessert?" asked Sally, turning slightly to look at him.  
  
"No," he said. "Although I'm sure that it's as good as everything else you've made."  
  
"So, this was just a way to get me alone?" asked Sally.  
  
"Yes," he said, reaching over to take her hand and pull her up against him.  
  
"Are you going to kiss me again?"  
  
"Yes." He proceeded to suit the action to the word, kissing her first on the mouth, and then trailing a series of small kisses down to the hollow of her throat that left her panting.  
  
"Pokemon only lasts half an hour," she gasped after a few moments of this attention. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him back, lightly on the corner of his mouth.  
  
She felt him smile against her lips. "Good to know."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Mil," said Trieze, "You hardly touched your dinner."  
  
Zechs looked up from his writing, poised with pen in midair.  
  
"I wasn't hungry," he said in a low voice. "And, please don't call me that."  
  
"I think that from now on, when we're alone, I shall do just that," said Trieze, stubbornly.  
  
He reached into the ornate cage and held out a gloved hand to the canary. It perched delicately upon his forefinger. Slowly he drew it out of the cage.  
  
"There, you do trust me now," he cooed to the small creature, who fluttered its wings as if in response to his voice.  
  
Zechs looked up. "Is that the new one?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," Trieze replied. "I've named her Madeline, do you like it?"  
  
He walked over smoothly and placed the canary on Zech's shoulder, where it perched, holding onto the fabric of his shirt with small claws.  
  
"See, she's becoming used to be handled. It only takes patience. Infinite patience."  
  
"So I've noticed," said Zechs wryly, keeping his voice soft so as not to startle the bird.  
  
Trieze offered his hand again, and the bird hopped over onto his finger. He quickly surrounded it gently with the other hand and walked over to place it back in its cage[2].  
  
"Are you suggesting that I'm 'handling' you?" asked Trieze lightly.  
  
"We both know that you are," said Zechs, pushing back his chair from the writing desk and standing up.  
  
Trieze chuckled. "Well, I suppose if you hadn't noticed, I'd have been disappointed."  
  
"I don't need handling," said Zechs in a low voice.  
  
"You've been brooding for 3 days now," said Trieze. "Do you really think I can bear to see you like this interminably?"  
  
"Stay out of this," growled Zechs, brushing past the other man. "Let me take care of Relena."  
  
Trieze grabbed his arm in passing. "This is intolerable!" he said, forcing the younger man to pause.  
  
He bent forward and kissed him roughly on the mouth, grabbing a handful of long platinum hair and twisting his hand through it.  
  
"Let me go!" cried Zechs. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"  
  
"Trying to snap you out of this sulk you've been in," replied Trieze huskily. "I'm sick to death of it."  
  
"Hurts not being the center of my attention, doesn't it?" snarled Zechs.  
  
"What do you want me to say?" asked Trieze quietly releasing the other man and stepping back a pace. "Of course it hurts, I miss you terribly. We've been walking around here like two strange cats for days now."  
  
"What about infinite patience?" asked Zechs in a softer tone.  
  
Trieze raised his eyes. "I come across as quite the hypocrite, do I not?" he asked sorrowfully. "Forgive me, my dear Mil." He turned to walk away, head bowed. "I'm going to bed," he said clearly, raking a hand through his hair. "Join me or not, it's completely up to you."  
  
Zechs looked up the staircase, watching Trieze walk slowly up.  
  
"Wait," he said suddenly, feeling the unexpected sting of tears behind his lids.  
  
Trieze paused and looked down from the top of the staircase. "Yes?" he asked expectantly.  
  
"I'm coming up," said Zechs. "Wait for me."  
  
Trieze smiled grimly. "I'd prefer to loose the battle to win the war, my love." He held out his hand.  
  
Zechs walked up to join him, taking the offered hand. "I surrender," he whispered, wrapping his arms around the other man.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
[1] I have a now 10 year old son, soon to be 11, who went through a Pokemon obsession at about Matt's age (he's almost 6), so I know way, way more about this cartoon/anime than is necessary for sanity. I was required as an attentive parent to listen to endless monologues about this show, although I have rarely watched it. I can name almost all the Pokemon and their abilities, something I am both proud of and ashamed of, for some reason. Someday, I hope to regain this brain space for more vital information. Pokemon has been discarded for Yu-Gi-Oh, recently, so now I am subjected to monologues about "Blue Eyes White Dragons" and "Attack Cards". Wufei is quite patient, isn't he? Must be all that meditating.  
  
[2] I used to raise finches from babies, and cockateels, also. It's easy to hand train them if they're young, but difficult once they're adults. 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Adventure Pairings: 1+2, 3+4, 13+6, 5+S Warnings: Language, Yaoi, AU, Citrus Rating: R Archived: S_E Updates, GWFF, FF.net  
  
Chapter 15  
  
Heero looked up from his typing and stared. "What are you watching?"  
  
Duo was watching intently, occasionally sipping from a bottle of LaBlatts[1].  
  
"Wrestling."  
  
"That is not wrestling. It's ..I don't know what it is."  
  
Duo slapped his leg and pointed. "I can't believe he just said that!"  
  
Heero continued typing away, pausing occasionally. "You might as well stick your head in the microwave as watch that."  
  
"But, look Heero, they're so gorgeous!"  
  
"What?" Heero peered at the television.  
  
One unbelievably ripped man with long flowing blond hair and purple boots was bending the other man, who had the face of a chiseled Adonis and the body to match in tiny red Speedo's, over the ropes of the arena in front of thousands of screaming male fans.  
  
Duo raised an eyebrow at Heero as a look of comprehension dawned on his face.  
  
"This is the gayest thing on TV." [2]  
  
Duo nodded solemnly. "Never miss it, babe."  
  
Heero closed his laptop and stared. "Pass me the popcorn."  
  
The phone rang a few minutes later. "Dammit," said Duo, fumbling for the receiver.  
  
"Hello?" he said, "If this is a telemarketer," he said, "I already have all the credit cards I need, and I'm not drunk or stupid enough to buy vinyl siting over the phone."  
  
"Duo," said a familiar voice, laughing, "This is Sally. Do you always answer the phone that way?"  
  
"Oh, hi," said Duo. "Only late at night," he said. "It's usually someone trying to sell me something or an obscene phone call. For the latter I start describing the my scab and toenail clipping collection."  
  
Sally laughed again. "I only called because I need a big favor," she said. "Can you drive Wufei back to the inn for me? I'd do it myself, but Matt is asleep and I don't want to wake him. And I can't leave him."  
  
"Wufei is there?" asked Duo. An eyebrow slowly crept upward along with a lascivious grin. Heero cocked his head inquiringly.  
  
"Yes, he had dinner here and we got to talking, and I just now realized how late it is."  
  
"Ah ha," said Duo. "And he's not staying?"  
  
"Get your mind out of the gutter," whispered Sally, "Matt is here for God' sake!"  
  
"I can't get my mind out of the gutter," said Duo. "It's attached to my body. No problem, I'll come get him."  
  
"I'll do it," said Heero. Duo looked at him inquiringly.  
  
"Heero says he'd be glad to do it," said Duo. "I'll give him your address."  
  
"I only live 4 blocks from there," said Sally. "I'm sure he can find it. Thanks," said Sally.  
  
"I could pretend my car is broke down," said Duo mischievously. "Then you could say, 'Oh shucky-darn, Heero can't come get you, you'll just have to spend the night.' Be sure to lick your lips, pout endearingly and simper a bit. Undo a few buttons, too."  
  
"Duo!" said Sally. "I'm a mother!"  
  
"Which means you know what comes next," teased Duo.  
  
"I don't simper."  
  
"You don't know what you're missing."  
  
"Good-bye, Duo."  
  
"Good-bye, Sal."  
  
Heero had put his shoes on and held out his hand for the car keys.  
  
"You sure you want to do this?" asked Duo, fishing them out of the pocket of his loose khaki cargo shorts.  
  
Heero nodded. "I need to say a few things to him."  
  
"Don't get blood on my car seats," said Duo offering his cheek, as Heero leaned down to kiss him.  
  
"I'll try not to," said Heero, smiling faintly.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Heero is coming to drive you to the inn," said Sally, coming back outside onto the deck. "Come inside, we'll wait for him."  
  
"I had no idea it was so late," said Wufei.  
  
"Me neither," admitted Sally. "Midnight already. I'm glad tomorrow is Sunday."  
  
"Why is that?" asked Wufei. They had come inside and were sitting next to each other on the sofa.  
  
"No Saturday morning cartoons to lure Matt out of bed at the crack of dawn."  
  
Sally yawned, quickly covering her mouth with her hand. "Sorry, I usually don't stay up so late."  
  
"I should have left hours ago," said Wufei apologetically.  
  
"No, I'm glad you stayed," said Sally. She reached over for his hand, and this time, he did not pull away, but squeezed her hand tightly for a moment, then held it.  
  
"I am too," he said. "You're very easy to talk to," he said.  
  
"You needed to talk," said Sally simply, shrugging. "I was glad to be there for you."  
  
"Heero is my oldest friend," said Wufei. "I was more upset than I realized by our disagreement."  
  
"He knows where all the buttons are to push," said Sally, "if he knows you well at all."  
  
"He does indeed," said Wufei. "My guilt over my wife's death is a very large, 'button', as you say."  
  
"You'll have to tell me about her," said Sally softly, squeezing his hand. "If you loved her so much, I'm sure she was a wonderful person."  
  
Wufei laughed quietly and shook his head. "It wasn't exactly love at first site," said Wufei. "She came to work for my stunt company in pyrotechnics. That's faking explosions for movies, you know. Quite dangerous. Her family had been in the fireworks business in Hong Kong for generations. She even majored in chemistry so she could understand the business better."  
  
"We argued about everything," he said, looking sad and distant.  
  
"But, it was only because she was right most of the time. She wanted so to prove to me, to everyone, really, that a woman could do well in what is essentially a man's profession. Very proud, and stubborn."  
  
"She was like you, in other words."  
  
Wufei shook his head slowly. "I only wish I were half the person she was."  
  
There was a knock at the door. "That'll be Heero," said Sally, reluctantly letting go of his hand to stand up.  
  
"I'm going to let you talk to him privately," said Sally. He stood up, not letting go of her hand.  
  
"Thank you," he said, leaning forward and kissing her on the forehead.  
  
"Anytime," said Sally, closing her eyes and leaning into the kiss.  
  
She pulled away. "Go talk to your friend."  
  
His eyes lingered after her as she disappeared down the hallway.  
  
He exhaled, unconsciously bracing his shoulders, and went to answer the door.  
  
"Wufei," said Heero levelly, as the door opened.  
  
"Heero," said Wufei, in the same tone.  
  
"Ready?" asked Heero.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Come on then," said Heero. "We can talk in the car."  
  
Wufei merely nodded, being careful to lock the door behind him as they left.  
  
They slid into Duo's car, saying nothing for a few seconds. Finally, suprisingly, Heero spoke first.  
  
"I should never have said that about Meilan," he said quietly. "That was uncalled for."  
  
Wufei sighed. "Although it had an element of truth," he said. "What was that you said? A 'monument to self denial'?"  
  
"I think I said 'a fucking monument to self-denial'," said Heero tonelessly.  
  
"Mustn't forget the all important adjective," said Wufei wryly. "You always did have a good memory for detail."  
  
"Thank you," said Heero gravely. "It's nice to know I'm good at something besides being a total bastard."  
  
"You're not a bastard," said Wufei. "You just have.problems."  
  
"No I have major problems."  
  
"Okay, major problems."  
  
"Thank you for agreeing with me."  
  
"No problem."  
  
Heero snorted. "I'm trying to work it out, give me a chance."  
  
"Of course," said Wufei, sighing. "I only want you to be happy. You know that don't you?"  
  
"I know."  
  
"And I had no right to say anything about you and Maxwell," added Wufei. "That's none of my business."  
  
"You were concerned." Heero shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably.  
  
"You care for him?" asked Wufei, equally uncomfortable, looking out of the car window at the stars.  
  
"Yes," said Heero. "More than anything or anyone in a long time."  
  
"Don't fuck it up, then," said Wufei, finally looking at him.  
  
Heero's profile was solemn in the faint light of the moon and stars.  
  
"I'll try," he whispered. He reached forward and turned the key.  
  
When they arrived at the inn, Wufei reached over and put a hand lightly on Heero's arm.  
  
"You're not going back to L.A., are you?" asked Wufei softly.  
  
"No," said Heero. "How did you know?"  
  
"Because that would be fucking it up," said Wufei, as he turned to walk away.  
  
He went up and got the attention of the security guard at the front door by tapping on the glass.  
  
It was Sanderson, who scowled at him as he unlocked the door. Heero put his head outside of the car door and let Sanderson take a long look at him.  
  
Then as he drove away, he extended a hand, middle finger raised in silent salute, out of the car window.  
  
Wufei chuckled under his breath. Sanderson ground his teeth in silence as Wufei walked past him, still smirking.  
  
"Yeah, laugh it up, asshole," said Sanderson when Wufei was out of earshot. He unconsciously clenched and unclenched his fists in rage.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Two hours later, Sanderson was drunk and playing pool very badly at a nearby bar called "The Mangy Moose"[3]. A jukebox played a whiny country ballad about what it's like to loose at love.  
  
A few couples in tight blue jeans and cowboy boots swayed to the music, groping each other in beer-induced rapture.  
  
Finally Sanderson went back to a small table to nurse the pitcher of beer he'd ordered. It was his second. He poured another glass, slopping it as the alcohol slowly affected his coordination.  
  
"Like some company?" a female voice with a faint accent asked in his ear.  
  
He grinned lopsidedly. "Sure, darlin," he drawled. He narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on the attractive woman wearing the expensive blue silk suit standing in front of him.  
  
"You're not from around here," he said, predictably cliché. The woman bit her tongue to keep from laughing derisively. That would be detrimental to her act.  
  
"No," she said. "May I sit?" she asked. "By all means," said Sanderson with the leering expansiveness of the truly inebriated.  
  
"Whas you're name, darlin?" he slurred, leaning in with what was no doubt in his mind, a charming smile.  
  
"You can call me Une," she said, sliding into the seat next to him and smiling seductively.  
  
"Knew you weren't from round here," said Sanderson, nodding smugly.  
  
"So, you work at the Green Mountain spa?" asked Une, twirling her finger on the rim of her wineglass.  
  
"How'd you know that?" he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.  
  
Your uniform, silly," she purred.  
  
"Oh, yeah," he said stupidly looking down at the logo on his uniform.  
  
"I've heard Trieze Kushrenada can be difficult to work for," she said, pausing to let the drunken man assimilate the comment.  
  
"Bastard," said Sanderson. "Made me apologize to that uppity asshole lawyer. Little faggot hit me, you know, just doin my fuckin job."  
  
"How unfair," mumured Une, patting him sympathetically on the arm.  
  
"How would you like to come to work for me?" she asked, after a second. "I can promise you twice your current salary."  
  
"What kinda job you talkin bout?" asked Sanderson, cocking his head to try to focus.  
  
"Let's just say I have need of a man with your skills," said Une, smiling silkily.  
  
Sanderson smiled back. "Keep talkin," he said, taking another swig of his beer.  
  
A hour of eluding Sanderson's drunken passes later, Une slid into her nondescript dark sedan in the parking lot, and pulled down the lighted mirror, after carefully making sure the doors were locked. She shuddered before she roughly wiped the lipstick from her mouth with a pre-moistened cloth and scrubbed at the eyeshadow on her lids. Composing herself, she pulled out a cell phone from her handbag and dialed a number.  
  
"Eleven here," she said after a few seconds. "Closing in on objective M.P., and inside contact established." she reported in a hard voice that Sanderson would have barely recognized.  
  
She listened intently for a few moments. "Understood, and all is going according to plan." She pressed the "end" button.  
  
She smiled in the dark interior of the car, sliding on a pair of wire rimmed glasses.  
  
[1] This is Canadian beer. Good stuff.  
  
[2] I say this every time my husband watches wrestling on TV. Think about it, people. The tiny tight spandex briefs barely covering the package, the groping, the oiled muscles, and the holds these guys put on each other? Half the time they have their faces in each other's crotches, the other half, they're on top of each other. Hubby agrees. He watches it anyway. /shrugs/  
  
[3] I've actually been to a bar with that name, honest. But it's much nicer than were Sanderson went. Not mangy at all. It's in Teton Village, a ski resort in Jackson, Wyoming.(They can pay me later for the plug.) 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Adventure Pairing: 1+2, 3+4, 13+6, 5+S Warnings: AU, Language, Violence, Yaoi, Citrus Rating: R Archived: FF.net, S_E Updates, GWFF  
  
Chapter 16  
  
"Your brother is right," said Mrs. Darlian, setting down her teacup. "It would be foolish for you to go visit him now. Goodness knows you take enough chances visiting him at Christmastime.  
  
"Mother, you're all being paranoid!" said Relena, throwing herself sideways in a chair. Her long blond hair draped over one of the arms as she stared rebelliously at the ceiling.  
  
The older woman frowned. "Young ladies do not sit down like that. Not in my house."  
  
Relena fought the urge to make a face. "Sorry," she said instead, sighing loudly and righted herself in the chair.  
  
She truly loved her adoptive parents, they had given her everything they would have given a natural daughter.  
  
But, the Darlians were so Old World European in manner, at times Relena felt suffocated. It wasn't as though she could remember her birth parents to make a comparison, but she had always secretly wondered if they would have been more lenient. She immediately felt guilty for the thought. Mil remembered them, but he also had to carry the horrific memories of their death. Their murders, she amended mentally, wincing internally.  
  
Mrs. Darlian dropped her voice to a theatrical whisper. "The fewer connections made between you and your brother, dear, the better."  
  
"Mother, I promise you that there are no terrorists with ears pressed to the wall listening to our conversation. Honestly!"  
  
"It's nothing to joke about," huffed her mother. "Your life could be in danger."  
  
"I've been hearing that since I can remember," said Relena stubbornly. "And now I'm 18 and nothing has ever happened. No Les Noire goons popping out of the shadows."  
  
"I'd prefer not to hear that name in my home," said Mrs. Darlian, closing her eyes in displeasure.  
  
"I know," said Relena, yielding. She stood up and went over to give her mother a kiss on an offered cheek.  
  
"I'm going to bed," she said. "Good night."  
  
"Good night, dear."  
  
Relena went upstairs, head bowed in thought, lips pursed.  
  
Going into her room, she pulled a small black leather zippered case from under the mattress of her bed. Inside was a passport with her picture, and the name "Adele Marquise" to the side.  
  
"Mil," she whispered, looking at it and smiling. "You're going to be so surprised."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Trieze leaned against the paddock fence as Zechs led out the dark colt.  
  
"So, what do you think of him?" asked Zechs. The skittish Thoroughbred jerked back his head as the man gently tugged on the leather strap leading to the halter on the animal's head.  
  
"He's a beauty," said Trieze, opening the gate and slowly walking over. "Unusual color."  
  
"He's a blood bay," said Zechs. "Very unusual. Almost a burgundy sheen to the coat."  
  
He pulled off his riding glove and offered the back of his bare hand to the horse's flaring nostrils.  
  
"He'll make a striking mount for you when he's properly broken," said Trieze, reaching up to stroke the animal's graceful neck.  
  
"By next summer, he'll have the size and stamina to be a wonderful hunter," said Zechs.  
  
"Does our beauty have a name?" asked Trieze, running his hands expertly down the horses withers and back.  
  
"Epyon," said Zechs, smiling.  
  
"Perfect," said Trieze.  
  
"Mr. Kushrenada?"  
  
Trieze turned his head to see who was calling him from across the stable yard.  
  
"What is it, Henderson?" he asked in a voice tinged with impatience.  
  
"An emergency phone call, overseas," said Henderson, offering a cell phone.  
  
Trieze held out a hand. "Thank you, Henderson."  
  
He put the wireless to his ear.  
  
"I see," he said carefully, after a few moments. Involuntarily, he glanced over at Zechs.  
  
"I'll inform him," he said crisply ending the call.  
  
"What was that all about?" asked Zechs absently, feeding Epyon a piece of carrot he had pulled out of his pocket and petting his velvety nose.  
  
"That was your sister's guardian, Mrs. Darlian," said Trieze.  
  
Zechs looked up in alarm. "Nothing has happened to Lena, has it?"  
  
"She's on her way here," said Trieze putting a steadying hand on Zechs arm.  
  
"Mrs. Darlian found a note in Relena's room this morning. She's determined to see you, and caught the Concord from Paris at 1 a.m. their time. No doubt she's already landed in New York hours ago."  
  
"That little fool!" said Zechs angrily, startling the colt.  
  
"Come, let's let Henderson here put the colt back in the north pasture, and we can discuss this in private."  
  
Zechs handed the lead to the security guard. "When you've got him settled, come up to the office, we'll need to discuss this with you, Henderson."  
  
The stocky man nodded his balding head. "I'll be right up, sir."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"That's interesting," said Quatre, looking up from the paper he was reading.  
  
Trowa made a listening noise as he put down his empty espresso cup.  
  
"It says here that the European markets closed at a six month low yesterday, because of terrorist threats made against several major industries by some radical leftist group called Les Noire."  
  
"And that means?" asked Trowa.  
  
"It seems to me that I remember Rashid telling me something about this not too long ago in connection with Winner Enterprises," he said thoughtfully.  
  
"Environmental terrorists. They had sent some vague sorts of threats to the Paris division of W.E. over some mining interests they hold near some protected marshlands near the Brittany coast."  
  
"You think this could affect W.E. in some way?" asked Trowa.  
  
"Well, even though I don't have anything to do directly with Winner Enterprises, it does affect the welfare of my sisters and their families," said Quatre.  
  
"I wonder if your father would have left Layla majority stockholder if he knew she was so accepting of us," said Trowa, almost to himself.  
  
"I should call her and see what's up," said Quatre, standing up and putting down the paper.  
  
"We're supposed to be on vacation," said Trowa, slipping on his reading glasses from the pocket of his robe and taking the paper Quatre had discarded.  
  
"I promise, I won't talk business," said Quatre. "Not much, anyway."  
  
"I hear the words 'dividends' or 'exchange rates' and I'm coming over there to spank you," Trowa growled at him.  
  
"You call that a deterrent?" asked Quatre, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"No, I call that foreplay," said Trowa. He turned to the comic section.  
  
Quatre grinned and walked over, picked up the phone, and dialing quickly.  
  
"Hello, Ms. Layla Winner's office," said a voice.  
  
"Susan, this is Quatre, is Layla free?"  
  
"I'm sure she is," said the voice. "I'll ring her."  
  
"Thanks," said Quatre, sitting on the bed and jiggling his foot as he waited.  
  
"Hello, is that you, Quatre?" asked a familiar voice.  
  
"Just calling to check on my favorite sister," said Quatre.  
  
"You're supposed to be on vacation in Montana," said Layla.  
  
"I am," he said, "but I saw this thing in the paper about Les Noire and it made bells go off in my head. You know me, I never ignore my vibes."  
  
"Sweetheart, sometimes I swear you must be clairvoyant. I wasn't going to worry you, but Rashid called this morning and told me that they shut down the mining operation temporarily in Brittany because of some threats they received from Les Noire again."  
  
"Hm, so, how is that affecting business overall?" asked Quatre, fiddling with a pen.  
  
"Well, in the European offices, it will have somewhat of an impact," Layla said. "But, we've got Interpol on this and they're telling Rashid that they've made some progress tracking them down. You remember what they did to that industrialist and his wife about a dozen years ago, what were their names?"  
  
"Peacecraft, I believe," said Quatre, frowning with the effort to remember. "Yes, a car jacking, and execution style double murder. I was still in school, but I remember Father mentioning it. He had done business with them, as I recall. I hope your stepping up security," he added as an afterthought.  
  
"Don't worry, I have," said Layla. "At home too."  
  
"Good," said Quatre. "Well I have an appointment with a sauna in a bit this morning, dear sis, so I must be going."  
  
"I'm glad your enjoying your time off, you needed it," said Layla. He could hear the smile in her voice. "Say hello to Trowa for me."  
  
"I will," he said. "Bye for now." He hung up.  
  
"Layla says 'Hello,'" he said, yawning and lying back on the bed. He gazed at the ceiling for several minutes.  
  
"I can hear the wheels grinding from over here," said Trowa. "What's going on in that head of yours?"  
  
"I'm putting two and two together and getting six," said Quatre, in a distant tone.  
  
"Well, when you figure it out," said Trowa, "Let me know."  
  
"I will," said Quatre. "Something keeps nibbling at the back of my mind and it's going to drive me insane until I figure out what it is."  
  
"They say when you're trying to remember something, the harder you try, the more it eludes you," said Trowa, taking off his glasses and putting down the paper.  
  
He came over to the bed and stretched out. "I'm going back to sleep," he announced, yawning. "I intend to do absolutely nothing today."  
  
"Absolutely nothing?" asked Quatre, smiling at him.  
  
"I'm not even going to shave," the other man replied. "I'm going to lie here and vegetate." He closed his eyes and curled up around a pillow.  
  
"Won't that be boring?" asked Quatre, bending down to pull the sheet up over him.  
  
"Well, not if you're doing it with me," said Trowa, suddenly reaching up and pulling the blond down against him. "Ah, this is better," he said, resting his chin on Quatre's shoulder.  
  
"I had that sauna scheduled," said Quatre.  
  
"Cancel it," Trowa drawled, "I promise to make things steamy enough right here."  
  
Quatre snickered. "Using me for a pillow is hardly what I'd call steamy," he said, wiggling a little in protest.  
  
"Oh, all right," said Trowa, unwrapping his arms from around the other man.  
  
"Go take your sauna and come back."  
  
"I'll be quick," promised Quatre, ruffling his hair playfully. "You may proceed with the vegetating."  
  
"Take your time," said Trowa, "I'll probably be asleep when you come back."  
  
"I'll wake you," said Quatre. "Spending the day in bed sounds great, but not sleeping." He grinned mischievously and gave Trowa's long bangs a playful yank.  
  
"Ow, brat," mumbled Trowa, slapping at his hand.  
  
Quatre slipped on a navy blue nylon jogging suit, hung a towel around his neck and quietly left.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"I don't recall this being one of the exercises on the schedule," said Sally, ducking from underneath Wufei's arm where she'd been pinned gently against the wall.  
  
"I'm changing the schedule," he said, turning quickly and capturing her by the wrist.  
  
They were alone in the therapy room. Sally smiled and deftly broke his hold.  
  
"I take it you're not going to be cooperative this morning?" she asked him archly.  
  
"I can be cooperative," he said. He followed her over to a weight bench, where she sitting.  
  
He sat down beside her. "See, I'm being cooperative," he slid an arm around her waist and placed a kiss on her shoulder.  
  
"That's not what I meant by cooperative," she giggled, in spite of herself. "I can see we're not going to get any work done today."  
  
"Didn't you say the other day that I'm ahead of where the doctor wanted me to be?" asked Wufei, moving his attention from her shoulder to the nape of her neck. Sally sighed and shifted over a bit on the bench. He moved with her.  
  
"Yes," she said absently. "But, I thought you didn't want to waste time."  
  
"This is not a waste of time," he murmured against soft blond hair. "In fact, I believe this is contributing tremendously to my feeling of well- being."  
  
She turned and straddled the bench to rest her face against his, "I'll be sure and put it in my report," she said softly.  
  
"You do that," he breathed against her lips, and began kissing her in earnest.  
  
This went on for a few moments, with both so engrossed in the sensations of lips and tongues mingling, neither one heard the door open.  
  
"Don't stop on my account," said Quatre, grinning wickedly as Wufei jumped up from the weight bench.  
  
He winked at Wufei, who was trying very hard to look casual, as he went inside the door to the sauna.  
  
"Well, that was mildly embarrassing," said Sally, automatically putting her hand to her passion-swollen lips. She giggled and then shrugged her shoulders.  
  
"I suppose I got a bit carried away," said Wufei, swallowing hard and sitting back down again.  
  
"I haven't been caught making out since I was 16," said Sally. "It was kind of fun."  
  
"Sally," he began seriously. She reached out put her hand on his arm. "Don't you dare apologize," she said. "If I didn't want that, I would have said something."  
  
"I wasn't going to apologize," he said. "I was going to say even though I've only known you a few weeks, you've become very important to me. I don't want you to think I'm merely taking advantage of you."  
  
"I never felt that," Sally protested. "I think I know you well enough to know that you're a completely honest and trustworthy sort of person. I can't imagine you taking advantage of me, or anyone, for that matter."  
  
"Good," he exhaled in relief. "I-I haven't really been with anyone since, well, since Meilan. I wanted you to know that. I'm not a player."  
  
"I understand," said Sally. "I admit I may be lonely, Wufei, but that doesn't mean I'm desperate. Well, not so desperate I'd come on to someone I wasn't seriously interested in." She smiled.  
  
"This is happening very quickly, I feel, overwhelmed," he said.  
  
"I think that sometimes it happens that way when there's a chemistry between two people," said Sally quietly.  
  
"Then you don't feel.compromised?" he asked.  
  
"No I want this," she said. "I swear to you, if you asked me to come up to your room this very minute, I'd come without the least hesitation. I know what I want. I can't believe I just said that, but I've never wanted anything so badly in my whole life."  
  
His eyes widened. "Sally, do you know what you're saying?" he said hoarsely.  
  
"Yes," she said simply. "I'm saying I'm falling in love with you."  
  
He closed his eyes. "I didn't expect this to happen."  
  
Sally looked away. "Maybe I shouldn't have said that. It usually leads to skid marks in the driveway."  
  
"No, I'm not saying I didn't WANT this to happen," he explained, frustrated.  
  
"Nice to know," said Sally dryly. "Can't you just say it?" she asked plaintively.  
  
"I think I'm falling in love with you too," he said, finally.  
  
"And I only had to beg a little," said Sally, shaking her head ruefully.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not good at these sorts of things."  
  
"Most people of the male persuasion aren't in my experience," said Sally. "I'm cutting you a lot of slack because of that. And because of Matt."  
  
"Matt?" he echoed.  
  
"You can't tell?" she asked. "He's crazy about you. You're all he talks about. I'm almost jealous."  
  
"Well, we simply can't break Matt's heart, now, can we?" said Wufei, smiling.  
  
"No, we can't," agreed Sally, putting her forehead against his.  
  
He ran his thumb down the side of her face. "Come up to my room?" he whispered, pulling her to him for a long involved kiss.  
  
"Excuse me," said Quatre, coming out of the door to the sauna room.  
  
"I seem to have the worse timing today," he said, hurrying across the room, towelling his hair.  
  
He grinned impishly and gave Wufei a thumbs-up before he slid through the door.  
  
"I guess we better find somewhere more private if you're going to keep kissing me like that," said Sally, catching her breath.  
  
"I'm definitely going to keep kissing you like that," he said.  
  
"I think it might be better if you go on up and I'll come in a bit," she said to him.  
  
He looked at her inquiringly.  
  
"Trieze might frown upon me seducing one of the guests," she explained. "I'd sort of like to keep my private life private, if you know what I mean."  
  
"Of course," he said. "We shall be discreet."  
  
"I'll be up in 10 minutes," she said, almost looking coy.  
  
"I'll be waiting for you." He left, looking back as he went through the door.  
  
Sally took a steadying breath.  
  
"I must be dreaming," she whispered to herself. 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Action Pairings: 13+6, 1+2, 3+4, 5+S Warnings: Citrus, AU, Language, Yaoi Rating: R Archived: S_E Updates, GWFF, FF.net  
  
AN: The 5+S lemon/lime interlude 16B is posted at S_E Updates, and Gundam Wing Fanfiction, at the Yahoo Groups Gundam Wing groups. Done in respect for the FF.net ban on certain material. I thought that part went a bit past the R restrictions here. Doesn't interfere with the plot, though. Please read if over 18, if not, forget about it! /Goes off mumbling about chibi hentai readers./  
  
Chapter 17  
  
"Excuse me," said Relena to the flight attendant. "I need to make a call."  
  
"Of course," said the woman, smiling down at her.  
  
Relena dialed the number to the Green Mountain Inn and Spa, Green Mountain Montana and held her breath.  
  
"Green Mountain Inn," said Millie's voice.  
  
"Hello," she said, exhaling her nervousness. "I'd like to speak to Zechs Marquise, please."  
  
"Who shall I say is calling?" asked the woman.  
  
"Lena," said Relena.  
  
"I'll ring the apartment," said Millie.  
  
"Lena?" asked a familiar voice in an anxious tone.  
  
"Mil," Relena whispered in a conspiratorial fashion. "It's me."  
  
"Lena, where are you?" he demanded. Relena winced slightly at the tone.  
  
"I'm in a plane that just took off from Denver International Airport at the moment," she said, a bit defensively. "I'll be in Butte in an hour."  
  
"Lena, when you get here, call me," he said. "Don't let anyone else know who you are and where you are going."  
  
"I won't" she promised, "if it makes you feel better."  
  
"I insist," said Zechs. "I'll come get you, and we can minimize the damage from this stunt of yours as much as possible."  
  
"Mil," she protested. "I only wanted to see you. I thought you'd be happy."  
  
He hissed in exasperation. "Relena, you know damn well I asked you not to come here."  
  
"Sorry," she said in a small voice, biting her lip.  
  
"What's done is done," he said after a moment. "Now hang up, dear, and wait for me at the airport."  
  
"I'll be waiting," she said, sighing. "Good-bye."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Sorry to wake you," Sally's voice came from above him, "But I have to go now, I have an appointment in 30 minutes. I used your shower."  
  
Wufei opened his eyes and saw Sally standing in front of the large mirror over the dresser, re-braiding her now damp hair.  
  
"You should have woke me sooner," he said in a voice rusty with sleep.  
  
"You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to," responded Sally. She turned and smiled warmly at him.  
  
He watched her silently.  
  
"Nothing to say?" asked Sally. She fiddled with the end of one braid, waiting.  
  
"I'm sorry you have to leave," he finally said.  
  
"Actually, I was hoping for 'Sally, that was the single most fantastic moment of my life'," she said ruefully.  
  
"Sally, that was the single most fantastic moment of my life," he repeated solemnly.  
  
"Ah, really, you're not just saying that?" she prodded him.  
  
"I wasn't joking," he said, serious. "I hope you weren't."  
  
"Sorry," she said, "I'm just a bit nervous. I'm out of practice when it comes to post-coital conversation."  
  
"What a shame," he said dryly. He pushed back the sheet covering him, reaching for his discarded clothing.  
  
"Like me to get that for you?" she asked, before he was out from under the bed covers.  
  
She handed him his pants.  
  
"Thanks," he said, shaking them out and sliding into them. "This isn't going to be awkward, is it? You seem, um, nervous."  
  
"No," said Sally, watching him without embarrassment now. "I don't regret a moment of it. I just took you for the modest type."  
  
"I'm not, really," he said. "Want me to prove it?" he asked, suddenly grinning mischievously. He sat down on the bed, searching for his discarded tank top.  
  
"Well, maybe later," she said, laughing. "Or I'll be late for work."  
  
She went over and kissed him lightly on the mouth.  
  
"Want to come over tonight?" she asked. "My house, dinner, one Pokemon obsessed child?"  
  
"Sounds wonderful," he said, reaching up to cup her cheek and kiss her again.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Hiya," said Duo, passing Sally in the hallway.  
  
"Duo!" she said, sounding surprised.  
  
"Um, did I just see you coming out of..?" Duo asked, tilting his head at her.  
  
"You didn't see anything," said Sally archly.  
  
"Your hair is damp," observed Duo. "And you're grinning like the cat who ate the canary. And your complexion has cleared up." He grinned at that last.  
  
"What are you, a private detective?" she asked.  
  
"No, just observant. And curious."  
  
"Well, keep your observations to yourself, nosey," said Sally, punching him lightly on the arm.  
  
"Me?" asked Duo innocently. "I'm the head of the 'Duo wants everyone to get some' club. Naturally, I would not say anything to screw things up for a fellow member. So to speak."  
  
"Well, start the 'Duo wants to keep his mouth shut so Sally doesn't lose her job'club" she hissed at him.  
  
"Gotcha," said Duo, winking at her. "So, lets see. Would the lucky recipient of your affections be certain hot looking Chinese stunt man?"  
  
"You really think he's hot?" asked Sally.  
  
Duo grinned widely. "Gotcha!"  
  
"Quit changing the subject," she flustered at him.  
  
"It's okay," said Duo reassuringly. "I won't say anything. So, this guy is it, hm?"  
  
"I love him, Duo," said Sally quietly. "I know it's been only a few weeks, but this is real."  
  
"Never let it be said that Duo Maxwell stood in the way of true love," said Duo. He grabbed her hand and bowed over it dramatically, placing a light kiss on the back.  
  
"You're an idiot," said Sally, rolling her eyes and giggling. "But a nice idiot."  
  
"Oh, what kind words," said Duo, sarcastically. "I shall cherish them always."  
  
"So," said Sally, "Since you know all about me, how are things with you and the lawyer?"  
  
"Pretty damn good," said Duo, smiling in earnest now. "I actually got him to laugh yesterday. I alerted the media. Film at 11:00."  
  
Sally laughed. "Well if anyone could accomplish that, it would be you, Duo. I'm glad you're happy, you deserve it."  
  
"So does he," said Duo, quietly.  
  
"Take care of him, Duo," said Sally. "You're good at that."  
  
"It's easy when you love someone."  
  
"No, it's not," said Sally mistily. "People take it all for granted until they lose it, don't they?"  
  
"That must have been some roll in the hay, girl," teased Duo. "You're getting all weepy on me."  
  
"Get lost," Sally said, grinning at him. "No begging for details. Sally Po does not kiss and tell."  
  
"Darn," said Duo, mock pouting at her. "I am telling Hilde, though. She'll torture it out of me anyway."  
  
"Got an appointment in 10 minutes, honey," said Sally to Duo, looking at her watch.  
  
"Me too," sighed Duo. "Back to the salt mines."  
  
"See you later. Hey, would you and Heero like to come over for dinner?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah, sounds good. Matt can show me his Pokemon." He laughed.  
  
"Oh, you heard about that, huh?" said Sally.  
  
"It's all the kid talked about when you brought him here last time," said Duo.  
  
"You were very patient," said Sally. "And you know all the Pokemon names, I'm totally impressed."  
  
"I watched a lot of cartoons during a short period of unemployment," explained Duo. "Daytime television at its best."  
  
"Come by at around 6:00" said Sally. "Bring dessert."  
  
"It's a date," said Duo. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Reynaud." Her voice was cool as she addressed the tall, saturnine man sprawled on a chair. The languid pose was deceptive, she knew from experience.  
  
"Une," he smiled. "I hope you are well?"  
  
The pleasantries were important. It convinced Reynaud that he was civilized. He was not.  
  
"I'm well," she said. She waited, standing at almost attention until she was invited to sit. Or speak further.  
  
"Details," he finally said, sitting up expectantly in the wing-backed chair. "Sit," he indicated a smaller, straight backed chair across from the desk.  
  
"Sanderson was all too eager to be our inside man," she said, sitting, but with an erect, attentive posture.  
  
"Of course," said Reynaud. He had a vaguely European accent that was hard to pin down, but mostly giving the impression of upper crust boarding school influences. That was true. He came from money. Old money.  
  
"He has important news," said Une, shifting forward slightly in her chair. "The younger sister is there as well."  
  
Reynaud's brows raised. "How convenient," he murmured.  
  
"I knew you'd be pleased."  
  
"We will definitely be moving up our agenda, then."  
  
"Monsieur?" Une asked.  
  
"Why not, what is that expression Americans use? Kill two birds with one stone?" he said.  
  
"Don't you mean three, sir?" Une asked deferentially.  
  
"Kushrenada is your affair," snapped Reynaud. "As long as the objectives of Les Noire are fulfilled, do what you wish."  
  
"Thank you," said Une, inclining her head slightly.  
  
"Contact Sanderson, Lermat, and the others," said Reynaud in a sharp voice. "Tell them to increase surveillance. I want the exact, perfect moment for successful execution. There will be no errors."  
  
"Of course," sir," said Une.  
  
"I leave the details in your capable hands," he said to Une. "You have not failed me yet."  
  
"Thank you," said Une.  
  
"I expect your usual excellence," said Reynaud. He rose, walking over to her. Reaching out a hand, he tilted her head up with one finger under her chin.  
  
"You understand I do this because I appreciate the fragility of beauty," he said in a low voice.  
  
"Yes," she whispered.  
  
"These rapists of the beauty of our mother Earth deserve their punishment, don't you agree, my lovely Une?"  
  
She nodded, swallowing convulsively.  
  
He released her chin, running a finger down her throat to the hollow between her collarbones.  
  
"Beauty," he murmured. "Such a fragile thing."  
  
He turned suddenly, and walked back over to his chair, slinging one leg negligently over an arm.  
  
Une thought it was the deceptively casual pose of a predator, waiting for his prey to make that fatal mistake that would cause the coiled muscles to spring into action.  
  
She would not make a mistake. 


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Adventure Pairings: 1+2, 3+4, 13+6, 5+S Warnings: Shounen-ai, Het, Language, Minor Violence Rating: R Archived: S_E Updates(Yahoogroups) GWFF, FF.net  
  
Chapter 18  
  
Trieze unbuckled his fencing mask.  
  
"Am I doing a good job of distracting you?" he asked Zechs, who was practicing a few lunges on the other side of the mat.  
  
"If you can call beating me four times in a row distracting," grumbled Zechs. Relena, sitting to the side on the floor and watching them, snickered loudly.  
  
"Are you still a sore loser, dear brother?" she teased. "I seem to remember some significant pouting after a lost soccer match or two."  
  
He looked up and smirked at her. "Losing to Trieze does have its advantages," he said, giving her a sly wink that made her blush a bit.  
  
"I see his shameless flirting has rubbed off on you," said Relena, hugging her denim-clad knees.  
  
"Zechs has his own charms, my dear," said Trieze. "He hardly needs lessons from me."  
  
He assumed the en guarde stance after checking the button on his foil, and went through a simple attack sequence of feint-deceive, extend and advance, parry and riposte.  
  
Zechs watched, impressed as always. "You make me feel like a rank beginner," he said, flicking the end of his own foil absently.  
  
"Nonsense," said Trieze. "You do beat me occasionally."  
  
He paused only momentarily. "Come Zechs, engage me." He assumed the en guarde again, smiling wickedly and beckoning Zechs with the crooked finger of his other gloved hand.  
  
Zechs smirked at the red-haired man. "Maybe later," he said, chuckling a little, as he also assumed the preparation stance.  
  
Relena giggled. "You two!" she said, standing up and brushing off the seat of her jeans.  
  
"I've got a date with a sauna," said Relena. "I'm sure you will carry on without me while I recover from a bit of jet lag."  
  
"Oh, we will," said Zechs nonchalantly, brandishing his foil. He pushed some blond strands out of his face and tucked them behind an ear.  
  
"En guarde," said Trieze, executing a compound of two quick feints followed seamlessly by a lunge.  
  
"Aggressive!" exclaimed Zechs, barely turning aside the attack with a froissement. Their blades grazed by each other with a faint screech of metal on metal.  
  
He was surprised, usually without their protective headgear, Trieze would simply perform familiar drill routines. His adrenaline rose slightly.  
  
Zechs countered with a coupe, a feint, then in quartata, passing his blade deftly around his opponent's attack, but leaving his back unguarded.  
  
Trieze laughingly moved in and grabbed Zechs from behind with his free arm.  
  
"Corps-a-corps is an illegal move," said Zechs, although he was smiling. He lay his head back upon Trieze's shoulder invitingly in a pretense of a more intimate sort of surrender.  
  
"So is this," said Trieze in his ear, reaching around for a friendly grope to his groin.  
  
"Ah, commanding the blade," gasped Zechs, laughing.  
  
"You did say that losing had it's advantages," whispered Trieze, nuzzling his lover below the ear, burying his nose in the scent of fresh sweat and heady cologne.  
  
"I'm sure we can continue this 'conversation'[1] upstairs," said Zechs, closing his eyes and writhing a bit in pleasure.  
  
"I shall be pleased to demonstrate my thrust," said Trieze, laughter rumbling in his chest. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Did you bring ice cream?" asked Matt, jumping up a bit to see Duo through the car window.  
  
"Move, buddy so I can get out," said Duo. Rusty was trying to beat him out of the door. Duo made an 'umph' as one of Rusty's feet connected with his midsection. Heero reached over and grabbed the dog's collar so Duo could open the car door.  
  
"It's a surprise," said Duo to Matt, finally, climbing out with a package under his arm.  
  
"Rusty!" said Matt in delight, flinging his arms around the retriever's solid neck. Rusty greeted him with a lick to one golden cheek.  
  
"Your mom should get you a dog," said Duo, as Matt ran his hands over the dog's head and ears, earning him another lick.  
  
"My mom said not yet," said Matt dejectedly. "Maybe when I'm bigger."  
  
"Well, buddy, in the meantime, you can borrow Rusty anytime you want," said Duo.  
  
"What's your name?" asked Matt, looking up briefly at Heero.  
  
"Heero," said the Japanese man, trying to look pleasant. The few children he'd met were usually shy around him.  
  
"Are you gonna eat with us?" demanded Matt, giving Heero a visual once over.  
  
"Yes," said Heero. "Your mother invited us."  
  
"Heero is my friend," explained Duo. "He lives with me."  
  
"I bet you get to play with Rusty everyday," said Matt enviously. He thrust out a lower lip, and his dark almond eyes grazed over Heero again.  
  
Heero smiled then. "I do," he said.  
  
"Come on, Matty, let's put Rusty in your backyard, and then you can play with him all you want," said Duo.  
  
Heero took the package from Duo as Matt led them to the door. Duo went to the backyard gate to let Rusty in and then came back around to the front door.  
  
"Mo-om!" Matt bellowed. Heero winced at the sheer volume of high-pitched sound assaulting his sensitive hearing. He gave Duo an inquiring look as if to ask if all children where this loud. Duo grinned and shrugged.  
  
Sally opened the door.  
  
"Matt, people in Siberia must have heard that," she admonished. She looked up with a friendly smile, ushering the two men inside.  
  
"Wufei is already here," she said, waving towards the back of the house. "You can join him out on the deck, if you like. What would you like to drink?" Matt ran past them and out the back door, yelling for Rusty.  
  
"Beer," said Duo, and Heero nodded. Before he could open his mouth, Duo said, "Him too."  
  
"Do you always talk for him?" teased Sally.  
  
"Heero's shy," said Duo, smirking.  
  
"I'm sure that's it," said Sally dryly, smiling at Heero. "It couldn't be that people have to gag you to get a word in edgewise."  
  
"Hey!" exclaimed Duo. "I represent that!" He grinned widely.  
  
"I wondered why your hand was always up the back of my shirt," said Heero, deadpan, as Sally laughed out loud.  
  
Duo pretended to stagger. "He made a joke!" he said.  
  
He threw his arm affectionately around Heero's neck and led him out to the back door. Sally followed with a tray of finger food.  
  
Wufei looked up and smiled in greeting as they came through the French doors.  
  
"Let me take that," he said to Sally, reaching for the tray she carried. He sat it down on the table in front of them as they all found a seat.  
  
"How's your shoulder?" asked Duo conversationally to Wufei, after taking a long swig of his beer.  
  
"No pain medication for over a week now," said Wufei, flexing his shoulder. "It feels much better, no pain at all unless I overextend it."  
  
"Good," said Duo. "You're a quick healer, but you're in good shape, so I expected that. Isn't he in great shape, Sally?" asked Duo evilly.  
  
"Wonderful," agreed Sally, who was sitting next to Wufei on the rattan love seat. He reached over and took her hand, kissing the back of it.  
  
"Wow, PDA," said Duo. Sally gave him a dirty look.  
  
"Sally is in good shape, too," said Wufei with a straight face. Heero raised an eyebrow at his friend, but said nothing. Duo snorted.  
  
"Duooo!" called Matt from the lawn. "Rusty won't give me the Frisbee back!"  
  
"Scuse me," said Duo, jumping up and walking down the few stairs off the deck onto the grass. "Come here, Rusty!"  
  
Rusty sat with his prize between his paws and gave Duo a puzzled look.  
  
"None of that playing dumb," growled Duo, walking over to the dog.  
  
"Bad dog," said Duo, trying for sternness and failing. Rusty gave him a friendly dog smile, tongue lolling, but kept his paws on the Frisbee.  
  
"Come on, Rusty, please," pleaded Duo finally. He put his hands on his hips.  
  
Matt tugged on the Frisbee and Rusty put his paws on it more firmly.  
  
"Rusty!" said Heero in a firm tone from his seat on the porch. "Give it!"  
  
Rusty picked up the Frisbee in his mouth, trotted over, and dropped it at Duo's feet, looking up expectantly for praise.  
  
Duo looked around. "I see you've been brainwashing my dog," he said to Heero.  
  
"Its called training," said Heero. "You just didn't give the command he recognizes."  
  
"Heero worked with dogs a little in the army," said Wufei. "Before you joined our infantry, wasn't it?"  
  
Heero nodded. "For six months, but then I was reassigned."  
  
"Wufei told me you met in the army," said Sally. "I was a second lieutenant, medical corps."  
  
Heero nodded again in acknowledgment, then looked up, watching Duo play with Matt and Rusty.  
  
Duo threw the Frisbee so that Rusty would chase it, and Matt squealed with glee when the dog jumped up and caught it midair.  
  
"Duo has a lot of child left in him," said Sally, smiling fondly at the sight. Matt was trying to run after the dog, who was chasing the Frisbee again. Duo's throaty laugh rang out as Matt stopped and pouted, giving up the chase, his small chest heaving breathlessly.  
  
Duo swept up Matt in his arms and swung him around to cheer him up, his long braid whipping around them furiously. Matt squealed excitedly, as he was "airplaned" in a circle a few times and then given a brief hug while he regained his equilibrium.  
  
"Yes, he does," agreed Heero. "I find it refreshing." He gazed wistfully at the man playing with the boy and the dog.  
  
"You should go play with them," suggested Wufei, looking at Heero's expression.  
  
"Play?" echoed Heero, looking nonplussed.  
  
"Yes, play," repeated Wufei. "Relaxing frivolous activity."  
  
"I know what it means, Wufei," said Heero, taking a sip of beer.  
  
"You do look as if you'd like to be out there," encouraged Sally.  
  
"I'd be playing myself if not for my shoulder," Wufei said. "Sally has forbidden me to do that sort of thing yet."  
  
"Yes, blame me," said Sally ruefully. "But, you need to rest your injury, you had a pretty strenuous workout in therapy today."  
  
Heero looked at them as if making up his mind, then rose and went out onto the lawn.  
  
Duo saw him and flung the Frisbee his way. "Catch!" he yelled, and threw the disc hard and high in Heero's direction.  
  
Heero sprang up and caught it with ease. Rusty lunged for it too late, knocking Heero over onto the grass. Heero easily rolled onto his back to break the fall. Rusty sniffed him anxiously, licking him on the face as if to apologize. Heero grimaced and rubbed his cheek where the dog had licked it.  
  
"Dog kisses, ew!" Matt laughed, folding his arms over his stomach.  
  
He walked over to Heero, who was still lying on the grass.  
  
"Throw it!" begged Matt, reaching down and tugging at Heero's arm.  
  
Heero rolled gracefully to his feet, and showed Rusty the Frisbee, then threw it hard in Duo's direction. Duo ran to anticipate the throw, but Rusty put on a burst of speed and snatched it first, running back to Heero.  
  
He dropped the Frisbee at Heero's feet and looked up expectantly.  
  
Duo ran over. "I think I'm jealous," he pouted. "Rusty has decided he likes you better than he does me."  
  
"He just knows what he can get away with, like most dogs," said Heero. "He's smart." He reached down and scratched Rusty's ears.  
  
Heero flipped Duo the Frisbee. "Here, throw it for him."  
  
Matt clapped his hands. "Throw it, Duo!" he yelled.  
  
Duo let the brightly colored disc fly. Rusty barked, Matt laughed and they played in the late afternoon sunshine as Wufei and Sally watched them from the deck.  
  
"I've never seen Heero like this," murmured Wufei, wrapping his arm around Sally's shoulders. "He's like a kid."  
  
"He certainly seems more carefree than that guy in the lawyer suit that first came here," agreed Sally.  
  
She slipped out from under his loose embrace and stood up to check the grill. "Everything's ready!" she announced.  
  
Wufei stood up and called Matt; Duo and Heero followed and they sat outside at the picnic table.  
  
"I'm starving!" said Duo, unnecessarily.  
  
"You always say that, Duo," observed Matt.  
  
"Be nice," Sally whispered.  
  
"Well, he does, Mom."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Bored?" asked Quatre, watching Trowa watch television. Trowa pushed up his glasses a bit. Quatre was sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing a loose pair of denim shorts.  
  
Trowa's head was on his denim-clad thigh, and occasionally, he would shift his head a little. He had hold of one of the blond man's feet, and every so often he would absently run his thumb up and down the arch of Quatre's foot.  
  
"Hm?" asked Trowa, watching the foreign movie. It was in French, which Quatre understood in a basic way, but he really needed the subtitles to fully appreciate the historical theme of the movie. Trowa did not, being fluent in the language.  
  
"I asked if you're bored," repeated Quatre.  
  
"Um, no," said Trowa finally. "But I think you are."  
  
"No, not really," said Quatre, resting his chin on his palm. He blew upwards on his shaggy bangs. He shifted his legs, jostling Trowa's head.  
  
"Yes, you are," said Trowa, rolling over on his back to look up into Quatre's face.  
  
He removed his glasses. "That's a bored Quatre face," he said, putting his finger on the end of Quatre's nose.  
  
Quatre looked cross-eyed for a moment having followed the finger, then wrinkled his nose, and blinked hard.  
  
"Okay, maybe I'm a little bored."  
  
"What do you want to do?" Trowa asked.  
  
"Finish watching the movie," said Quatre, "I can wait."  
  
"Then what?" asked Trowa.  
  
"Oh, I don't know," said Quatre bending over and blowing Trowa's bangs away from his face. He grinned. He began to run his fingers down the side of Trowa's ribs, just applying enough pressure to tickle.  
  
Trowa squirmed, grunted and rolled back over.  
  
"Pest," he said grabbing Quatre's foot again. He pulled it toward him and gently bit the smallest toe.  
  
"AHH!" Quatre nearly screamed. He jerked his foot, reaching down to rub the tortured toe.  
  
"Holy shit, Tro," he said, "That felt weird. Well, sort of.do it again."  
  
Trowa sniggered. "Now I KNOW you're desperate."  
  
He looked at the flickering screen. "What was this movie about?" he asked finally.  
  
"I dunno," said Quatre, absently, busy plotting revenge for the toe bite.  
  
"Some slutty French noblewoman running around seducing the breeches off of everyone."  
  
"Yeah, that's pretty much it," said Trowa, muting the sound with the remote.  
  
"Jealous because everyone's getting some but you, eh?" he asked Quatre, smirking.  
  
"No, I'm jealous because I don't look good in a silk corset," said Quatre sarcastically. "Otherwise I'm sure I'd have your complete attention."  
  
"I don't know, I think you would," said Trowa thoughtfully. He narrowed his eyes as if envisioning that scene.  
  
"I had no idea you were such a freak," said Quatre, his eyes widening a bit.  
  
"Well, I'd have to get one for me too," said Trowa, laughing. "What do you think, do I have the figure for it?"  
  
"You live with a guy for four years, and all of a sudden he confesses he's a closet transvestite," said Quatre dryly. "What a shock."  
  
"Nothing I confessed would shock you," said Trowa. "Any guy who likes his toes bit is freakier than I am."  
  
"I never said I liked my toes bit," protested Quatre.  
  
"Let's see," said Trowa wickedly. He pounced on Quatre's nearest bare foot, grabbing it firmly and began nipping at the toes.  
  
"Ah, shit, that tickles!" yelled Quatre, twisting to get away. "Let go, let go, you bastard!" he begged. He squirmed over the side of the bed, dragging Trowa with him to the floor.  
  
"You do that again and I'll, I'll, well, I'll do something really nasty to you in your sleep," said Quatre, panting.  
  
Trowa let go of the foot he was still holding and grinned. "Promise?" he asked hopefully.  
  
"OH, you wish," said Quatre, trying to glare at him. "You'll be dating Rosy Palm and her five daughters the rest of the week if you try to bite my feet again."  
  
"I'll let you bite mine," said Trowa, in a conciliatory tone.  
  
Quatre laughed. "No thanks." He looked up and grinned. "I'm sorry I made you miss the end of the movie."  
  
"It was a boring movie anyway," shrugged Trowa. "I only watch TV to have an excuse to snuggle with you." He inched closer on the floor, until their noses were almost touching.  
  
"I know," said Quatre. "I guess I'm not used to spending so much time with you. Sometimes, it scares me how much we still don't know about each other."  
  
"Oh, I hope I never get so boring you figure out everything about me," said Trowa. "It's so much fun finding out how ticklish your feet are, for instance."  
  
"And I found out you want me to dress up like a French courtesan," sniggered Quatre.  
  
"I do not," said Trowa indignantly. "That was just a joke."  
  
"I'd do it," said Quatre, teasingly, kissing him on the end of the nose. "But only on Halloween."  
  
"Not that desperate yet, my love," said Trowa, returning the kiss a little lower.  
  
Quatre wound his arms around the neck below him, deepening the kiss until their began to explore each other's mouths hungrily.  
  
Trowa broke free first. "I'm getting back on the bed," he said, pulling away.  
  
"What's wrong?" asked Quatre, looking slightly worried.  
  
"No way am I gonna get rug burns again," said Trowa, pushing himself off of the carpeted floor. "Especially on my ass."  
  
Quatre laughed in relief. "Oh, right."  
  
[1] In fencing, the back and forth play of blades is called "conversation". 


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Action, Adventure Pairings: 13+6, 1+2, 3+4, 5+S Warnings: Yaoi, AU, Language, Violence Rating: R Archived: FF.net, S_E Updates, GWFF  
  
Chapter 19  
  
Sanderson wiped the sweat from the back of his thick neck and adjusted the night vision goggles.  
  
"Looks like lights out at the inn," he said into the two-way radio he was holding.  
  
"Get your ass up here and coordinate," said a rough voice at the other end, and with a faint hiss of static, the connection was closed.  
  
Sanderson grinned. He was finally going to get his revenge. Actually, he could have given a rat's ass about Les Noire's rabid environmental objectives. He'd have gladly wiped his ass with a spotted owl[1] if it got him a piece of Trieze Kushrenada. And they paid him well. Plenty of cash and sadism were his idea of a good time.  
  
He crept back to the outcropping of rocks behind the inn that was a designated lookout point.  
  
A striking, olive-skinned man with a shaved skull and chiseled features greeted him with an indifferent glance. They were all wearing black toned camouflage, blacked out faces, and night vision goggles around their necks.  
  
"We're moving in tonight," he rasped. "Anyone fucks up, I'll shoot you myself." Sanderson nodded. There were three others, local "talent" that Sanderson had picked up. Expendable, in his opinion. No doubt in Marron's opinion too, he thought looking at the hawkish man with the shaved head.  
  
"As long as we get paid," said a lanky specimen with stringy blond hair. He had the telltale prison tattoos of an oft time loser.  
  
"Focus on the gig," said another, a short, muscular Cuban man with a livid scar on the side of his face. "I wanna get this over with, and get the fuck outta here." His dark hair was pulled back in a long ponytail and he put a hand to the knife on his belt.  
  
"Fraid of the dark, Jose?" sneered the third man, who was blessed with a nondescript face and had short dark hair under his cap. At least this one had some experience as a mercenary. Sanderson thought McGuire might actually prove useful tonight.  
  
"Fuck you and your whore of a mother," said the Latino man casually, spitting on the ground.  
  
"Listen up, dickheads," said Marron, his faint French accent sounding at odds with his familiarity with American slang. "Everyone knows what to do. This should be in and out, hit and run. We want Peacecraft and his sister. You know what they look like. What you do with the rest is your business, and long as Reynaud has his prize."  
  
"So, what did this guy do to piss you off so bad?" asked McGuire, in a disinterested voice.  
  
"He saw someone he shouldn't have seen," said Marron. "Reynaud doesn't like loose ends."  
  
"Hm," said McGuire in a bored tone. "Not the forgiving type, eh?"  
  
"Far from it," said Marron. "I should know." He pulled up his arm and displayed a long scar. "And this was just for opening my mouth at the wrong time." He grinned humorlessly. "But, hey, he pays well, so what the hell, n'est-ce pas?" He shrugged.  
  
"Sounds like a fun guy," drawled the blond sarcastically, who was only known to them as "Slim". He spat out a wad of tobacco he'd been nursing in his cheek. Marron grimaced distastefully. "Degoutant," he muttered.  
  
"Let's do this thing," said the Cuban, fingering his knife again. "I'm getting fuckin' bored, man."  
  
"Right," said McGuire.  
  
"Estevez, take out the power, and phones." The Latino nodded and slid off noiselessly, invisibly into the darkness.  
  
"McGuire, back door," said Marron. "Done," whispered McGuire.  
  
"Slim, Sanderson, you're with me," said Marron. "We're going in through the side kitchen door after McGuire. Make one sound and I'll cut your throat, understand?"  
  
"Yes sir," said Sanderson, looking insulted. Slim just nodded.  
  
"Let's go then."  
  
"Aren't you forgetting someone, Marron?" said a husky female voice. Une rose in the darkness, similarly clad as the others.  
  
"Jamais, mon amour," said Marron. "I haven't forgotten you."  
  
"You know what I want," she said simply, rising in the darkness. Her dark blonde hair was concealed with a black nylon watchcap.  
  
"Mais certainment," said Marron in a low voice.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Quatre rolled over and listened for a moment before he opened one sleep- crusted eye. It was dark, so he realized he should not be awake.  
  
Automatically, he sought the luminous dial on his travel alarm clock. 2 a.m. He began to wonder if a sound had woken him at this strange hour.  
  
Not wanting to awaken his bedmate, he slid slowly out of the blankets. There was a muted sound of bedsprings as he crept to the bathroom lightswitch.  
  
Nothing. He flipped it again.  
  
"Tro!" he whispered loudly. Then he mentally smacked himself for whispering. What was it about being the dark that made one want to whisper?  
  
"Tro!" he said more loudly.  
  
"Heard you the first time," said a sleep rasped voice. "If you're waking me up for another romp, you insatiable slut, forget it."  
  
"The lights are out," said Quatre, feeling his way back over to the bed. His eyes were quickly growing accustomed to the moonlight darkness.  
  
"So, what do you need lights for? We're sleeping," said Trowa drowsily.  
  
"Something's weird," answered Quatre, his eyes going unfocused in the dark as he sat on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Maybe Kushrenada forgot to pay the electric bill," said Trowa, pulling the blankets up to his chin.  
  
Quatre reached over and yanked down the blankets. "HEY!" yelped Trowa.  
  
"Get dressed," said Quatre firmly. "We're calling security. I got a bad vibe."  
  
He picked up the phone.  
  
"Trowa, the phone is dead," he said, hanging the receiver up. He stood up and felt around for the clothes he'd left folded on a chair; khaki cargo pants and a pale gold T-shirt.  
  
He felt rather than saw the puzzled frown on Trowa's face.  
  
"Okay, I'll get dressed." Trowa hurriedly pulled on blue jeans and a camouflage green tee.  
  
"Can't find my blasted shoes," said Quatre, feeling around under the side of the bed.  
  
"They're over here by mine," said Trowa. There was a thumping sound in the dark.  
  
"Merde!" said Trowa loudly, rubbing his foot. "Stubbed my goddam toe."  
  
"Oh for hell's sake," said Quatre. "Hand me my shoes."  
  
He felt his moccasin toed loafers pressed into his hand.  
  
"I'd give my left nut for a flashlight," grumbled Quatre.  
  
"So would I," said Trowa, dryly.  
  
"Sure, I have to make all the sacrifices in the relationship," said Quatre sarcastically.  
  
"Let's see if we can find our way downstairs without killing ourselves," said Trowa.  
  
"I'm right behind you," said Quatre.  
  
Trowa laughed softly. "Is that all you can think about at a time like this?"  
  
Quatre reached out in the dark and lightly smacked the back of his head.  
  
"Ow," said Trowa.  
  
"Quit making lame-ass jokes when I've got red-alerts going off in my head," said Quatre in a worried tone.  
  
"Sorry," said Trowa, contritely.  
  
They felt their way down the darkened hallway to Wufei's door, and knocked.  
  
The door opened a few moments later. Quatre could barely make out Wufei's bare-chested form in the darkness.  
  
"This better be good," said Wufei, blinking fiercely at him, arms folded across his chest.  
  
"Power and phones are out," said Quatre in a low voice.  
  
Wufei's eyes went wide. "That's odd."  
  
"Hang on, I have my cell phone," he said, going back into his room.  
  
"I think I packed a small flashlight and some matches too," said Wufei.  
  
"Really?" asked Trowa.  
  
"Hey, when Quatre said 'Montana' I pictured outhouses and sleeping bags in a tent," said Wufei. "Just threw in a few things in case."  
  
There were the sounds of drawers opening and rustling. "Ah, found it," said Wufei.  
  
A narrow beam of light came on in the dark room, making their eyes hurt for a moment.  
  
"Now I can find my phone."  
  
Wufei felt around in another drawer. "Here it is." He hit the speed dial.  
  
"Who you calling?" asked Quatre.  
  
"Sally," said Wufei. "I'm going to find out if it's just here or the whole area that's affected by the power and phone outages."  
  
"Good idea," said Trowa.  
  
"What do we do if it's not?" asked Quatre, sitting down carefully on Wufei's bed with an intensely thoughtful expression.  
  
"We find out what the hell's going on," said Trowa.  
  
"Sally," said Wufei after a few moments. "It's me."  
  
There was a pause. "Power and phones are out here, they're obviously not there, are they?"  
  
He paused again. "Thanks, you do that." Another pause. "I love you too."  
  
Quatre made a faint clucking sound and sighed breathily, smiling at Wufei in spite of the rising tension in his gut.  
  
"Say one word, and I'll circumcise you with my katana," grumped Wufei.  
  
"Too late," said Trowa wryly, not able to resist.  
  
"Sally's going to report the unusual power and phone outage to the police," Wufei said, ignoring the jibes.  
  
"I wonder if anyone else has noticed what's going on?" asked Quatre, now focusing on their problem again.  
  
"You brought your katana?" asked Quatre of Wufei, suddenly.  
  
"Yes," said Wufei. "So I could practice my katas later on. Why?"  
  
"Bring it," said Quatre.  
  
He could sense Wufei's raised brows in the dim light of the torch.  
  
"Humor me, okay?" he cajoled.  
  
"Very well," replied Wufei. He walked over in the dark and went to the closet, pulling out a long case.  
  
He opened it and drew out the long curved blade.  
  
"I feel like an idiot," he grumbled.  
  
"So, feel like an idiot," said Quatre, shrugging. "You'll live."  
  
"Feel better now?" asked Trowa to Quatre.  
  
"Yes," said Quatre shortly. The three men left Wufei's room and silently crept to the top of the stairs.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Duo scrabbled for the ringing phone.  
  
"'Lo?" he rasped in sleep thick voice. ""Hoever this is, 'ate you."  
  
"Duo, its Sally."  
  
"Whadda want, crazy woman?"  
  
"Duo, Wufei just called me on his cell phone from the inn, all the phone and power are out there. Quatre and Trowa are with him, and Quatre thinks something weird is going on. I can't leave Matt, so I was wondering if you and Heero could check it out."  
  
Duo blinked grainy eyes and flicked on the bedside lamp. Heero opened one eye and looked at him, sleepiness giving him the deceptive appearance of winking.  
  
"'Ro," Duo said, putting his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone, "Sally says the power is out at the inn. Phones too."  
  
Heero sat up, and yawning widely, reached for his pants. "Tell her we're on our way."  
  
Standing up, Heero stretched, bowing his back until the finely etched muscles bunched and a cracking noise made Duo wince slightly.  
  
Heero went over to a small bag, and after rummaging around a moment, brought out his pistol in shoulder holster, a spare ammo clip, and a box of ammunition.  
  
Duo raised his brows. "You really think you're going to need that?"  
  
Heero met his eyes with an intensity that made Duo look away after a few seconds. "I hope not." He quickly shrugged on a black T-shirt, and pulled on his running shoes. The holster was quickly buckled around his torso.  
  
Duo shivered, realizing that he was meeting Heero the soldier.  
  
"You're paranoid," said Duo, shaking his head.  
  
"I'm careful," said Heero. "Do you know how to handle a weapon?"  
  
"Sure, I have a .22 pistol for shooting varmints," said Duo.  
  
"Get it," said Heero. "Gun that small won't stop a man, unless you aim for the head."  
  
Duo gulped. "Shouldn't we just call the police?"  
  
"We can get there much faster," said Heero. He grabbed a long knife in a leg sheath shoved up the leg of his black cargo pants and buckled it around his calf. "If it makes you feel better, I still have my private investigator's license."  
  
Duo threw his legs over the side of the bed, and began to dress.  
  
"Okay, but if squirrels have chewed through the phone lines, we're gonna feel real stupid blasting in there like Starsky and Hutch."  
  
Heero gave him a puzzled look.  
  
"You know, cheesy 70's cop show, two devastatingly handsome guys, sliding over the hood of the muscle car, whipping out guns?"  
  
Heero slowly shook his head.  
  
"Forget it," said Duo. He sighed. "Should I bring a knife too?"  
  
Heero nodded, and Duo opened a locked drawer in a small desk and pulled out a six-inch long butterfly knife, and a pistol in a gunslinger style holster.  
  
Heero raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Okay, I had Billy the Kid delusions when I first moved here," said Duo defensively. "Wild West and all that shit."  
  
He buckled on the low slung holster over his jeans, tying the holster securely around his right leg with the leather thongs.  
  
"Draw, pardner," he drawled, pulling out the gun, checking the barrel and grabbing a box of bullets, stuck them in his pocket.  
  
"Load it and put on the safety," said Heero. "An unloaded gun is worthless."  
  
"An unloaded gun keeps me from shooting off my foot," grumbled Duo, but he complied.  
  
"Are you any good with that thing?" asked Heero.  
  
"I can shoot just fine," said Duo, offended. "Sally took me to the shooting range and showed me how when I bought the damn thing. I've practiced a lot."  
  
"Besides, its probably nothing."  
  
"Burglars would be my guess," said Heero, tossing Duo his car keys. "Let's go."  
  
Duo looked hesitant.  
  
"Come on," said Heero. "We'll go in, scare them off, and you can be Billy the Kid." He smirked.  
  
Duo grinned roguishly. "Aw, you're on to me, ain't ya?"  
  
"From the start," said Heero, as they locked the house behind them.  
  
"Sorry Rusty," said Duo, locking him behind the gate as they left. The dog whined at them through the fence.  
  
"No doggies allowed while Daddy and Heero are playing cowboys and ninjas."  
  
Heero snorted on a laugh.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`  
  
[1] An endangered species in North America 


	20. Chapter Twenty

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Action, Adventure Pairings: 13+6, 1+2, 3+4, 5+S Warnings: AU, Language, Violence, Yaoi (all the good stuff) Rating: R Archived: S_E Updates, GWFF, FF.net  
  
Chapter 20  
  
"Well, Sally was right, there's no lights on," said Duo as they got within sight of the inn.  
  
"Hn," said Heero, looking intently ahead. "Stop at the end of the entrance, turn off your lights and park your car across the road."  
  
Duo gave him a look but complied.  
  
"Okay, fearless leader, what next?" asked Duo jokingly.  
  
"Quiet," whispered Heero in a distracted tone.  
  
"You're freakin serious about this, ain'tcha?" asked Duo in disbelief.  
  
"If you don't be quiet, I'll gag you, baka," said Heero seriously, in a low voice. "Follow me and keep low."  
  
Duo clamped his jaw shut and followed Heero as they made their way up to the inn in a roundabout, stealthy fashion, following the carefully placed landscaping of trees for cover.  
  
Duo had a sudden urge to hum the theme song from "Mission Impossible," but he knew Heero well enough to realize he was dead serious about keeping silent.  
  
He hummed it in his head to distract himself from the unease permeating his gut.  
  
They approached the front door and tried it. "Locked," breathed Heero.  
  
"I have a key to the side entrance," whispered Duo. "Hilde gave it to me, she opens the kitchen earlier than the rest of the staff."  
  
"Let's go," said Heero.  
  
The crept around in the bushes and flowerbeds to the side entrance.  
  
Heero pushed it and it swung inward.  
  
"Here's where they went in," whispered Heero. Duo looked grim.  
  
"Boy, is Hilde gonna be pissed."  
  
Heero reached for his revolver, and they went inside slowly. Heero and Duo both brought out tiny high intensity mag lights from their pockets.  
  
They were tense, looking around in the darkness, shining their lights around into the corners of the large kitchen.  
  
"If you're in here, come out now and I'll turn you over to the cops without shooting," said Heero, raising his voice, which echoed eerily in the empty room.  
  
"Not here," hissed Duo after a few seconds. "Where do ya think they went?"  
  
"Where are the valuables kept?"  
  
"Wall vault in Treize's office," said Duo.  
  
"That's where they went."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Trowa grabbed Quatre with one hand and Wufei by the other and pulled them into an alcove. "Over there," he hissed almost inaudibly in their ears, pointing with his chin.  
  
There was a subtle movement along the wall of the main lobby, barely discernable in the gloom. A metallic glint flashed for a brief second in the darkness in the hands of a stocky, compact form in fatigues, then disappeared.  
  
They froze. "Call the police," whispered Quatre to Wufei, indicating his phone.  
  
"Guys like that eat police for breakfast," Trowa whispered back.  
  
"They're a half hour away," whispered Wufei back. "Nearest incorporated town is that far away."  
  
"Shit," said Quatre. "We don't even have a gun."  
  
"Not that it'd do you any good," Wufei scoffed.  
  
"Hey, just because I wear a suit to work doesn't mean I'm a pussy," hissed Quatre indignantly.  
  
"Cat is quite a good shot," whispered Trowa. "We go to the pistol range twice a month."  
  
"I'll apologize later," said Wufei. "Any of you remember if you saw more weapons around here?"  
  
"There'll be knives in the kitchen," said Trowa thoughtfully.  
  
"There's a gun cabinet in Treize and Zechs apartment," said Quate. "I noticed it when we had dinner there."  
  
"Think we can get over there without being noticed?" asked Wufei.  
  
"I can," said Trowa.  
  
"How?"  
  
"They'll never look up," said Trowa, looking at the crisscrossing beams in the open ceiling of the inn that went from one side to the other.  
  
"Piece of cake compared to the highwire act my sis and I used to do as kids," said Trowa.  
  
"Do it," said Wufei, "Be careful."  
  
"Always, boss," said Trowa.  
  
"Kiss for luck," said Quatre, pressing his lips firmly on Trowa's jaw.  
  
"I never fall, mon amour," said Trowa softly, kissing him back briefly on the lips. "Ruins the performance." Quatre saw a brief flash of white teeth in the shadows.  
  
He nimbly jumped up to the railing of the balcony and from there leapt up pulled himself up onto the crossbeams that dropped down and ran the length and breadth of the high vaulted ceiling. There was no sound.  
  
"He's like goddammed cat," whispered Wufei in awe.  
  
"I can't look," murmured Quatre. But he did.  
  
Trowa walked the 4-inch beams as easily as another man might wind down a garden path, soundlessly. In a few minutes, he had crossed to the other side of the inn and over to the head of the staircase leading to the large apartment Trieze and Zechs called home.  
  
"Makes it look easy, doesn't he," asked Wufei.  
  
Quatre nodded.  
  
"Now he has to get in."  
  
Trowa slid over to the door, and removed a small multifunction knife from his pocket, and picked the lock. In seconds, he had the door opened.  
  
Feeling around in the darkness of the apartment, he attempted to remember its layout from the night they'd had dinner there a few weeks ago.  
  
"I had no idea you had the skills of a cat burglar, Mr. Barton," said a smooth voice in the darkness. Trowa did not see, but felt something prick his neck.  
  
"I'm not here to rob you," he said in measured tones, holding up hands, palms outward. "I'm here to warn you."  
  
"Yes, I'm sure we have uninvited guests," said Treize coolly, lowering his saber.  
  
"So you know the power and phones are out?"  
  
"Yes, but unlike some impetuous people, Zechs and I chose to stay safely in our rooms until help arrives."  
  
"Wufei, Quatre and I saw one of them in the lobby," said Trowa. "They're armed with automatic weapons, loaded for bear and wearing fatigues. These guys are not burglars."  
  
Treize flicked on a small flashlight and looked into Trowa's face, as he grimaced and blinked against the sudden assault on his retinas.  
  
"It's them," said Zechs in a harsh voice, coming up behind Trowa. "Les Noire. They've found us."  
  
"We need to get armed and fast," said Trowa. "The cops are too far away to help us now."  
  
"Come with me," said Treize, walking over to a large carved mahogany cabinet.  
  
He opened it with a key from his jeans pocket, and Trowa looked inside.  
  
"Mostly hunting rifles, shotguns, but there are a few semi-automatic revolvers and plenty of ammunition. And of course, our fencing sabers."  
  
Trowa looked over the array. "Better than nothing, but our friends have automatic weapons. They've definitely got the best of us in firepower."  
  
"Then," said Treize calmly. "We must be their superior in strategy, stealth and swiftness."  
  
"You talk like a military man," remarked Trowa.  
  
"Treize was a Colonel in the Swiss army," said Zechs quietly.  
  
"I was a rich dilettante brat who was sent to military school because I got caught shagging the butler's nephew," said Treize with a laugh in his voice.  
  
"Good enough," smiled Trowa. "Have any small, short bladed knives?"  
  
"Yes," said Zechs. "Why?"  
  
"A thrown knife can be deadlier than a gun at close range," said Trowa. "And much quieter."  
  
Treize smiled a small ruthless smile in the small, piercing light. "By all means, then, Mil, get him a few knives."  
  
The three men removed the guns from the cabinet and began loading them.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Estevez realized he'd been seen when he came into the lobby.  
  
"Shit," he muttered to himself. He flipped open his two-way.  
  
"I got some complications roamin' round here," he whispered.  
  
"Take care of it," came the terse reply.  
  
"Right," he hissed.  
  
The Cuban man fingered his long knife. "Party time," he murmured, as he slid his finger lovingly along the blade. He crept up the stairs to where he'd seen the flash of Wufei's katana on the balcony.  
  
TBC 


	21. Chapter Twentyone

Title:Exercising an Option  
  
Author:Gina Lin Genre: Action, Adventure, Romance Pairings: 5+S, 3+4, 1+2, 13+6 Warnings: Violence, AU, Language, Yaoi Rating: R Archived: FF.net, S_E Updates  
  
Chapter 21  
  
"Get behind me," ordered Wufei in a harsh whisper, hearing the soft brush of footsteps coming up the stairs. They were in the alcove in the hallway but it wouldn't conceal them for long.  
  
Quatre stilled his breathing, and tried to focus on the immediate danger without panic. His heart was hammering in his chest as he looked around for something he might use to help defend himself and Wufei.  
  
A small decorative table in the alcove held a tall copper vase full of dried flowers, and above that was some sort of wall decoration made of a pair of mounted deer antlers.  
  
Feeling completely foolish, Quatre reached up and pulled the antlers off of the wall. He felt the tips with his fingers and they were indeed pointed enough to inflict damage. In his other hand was the heavy vase.  
  
They waited for Estevez to come to them.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Heero grabbed Duo's arm and put a hand over his mouth, then pointed at the two figures in the darkness. Then pulled him down behind a large sofa in the lobby of the inn.  
  
One of the intruders was tall and lanky, slightly stooped, and the other had by contrast a military posture in their camouflage gear. They were about to go up the staircase that led to Treize' apartment.  
  
Heero focused on the target and slowly raised his revolver over the back of the sofa.  
  
"I'd really hate to ruin your friend's pretty hair," said an accented voice behind him. "Drop that piece and turn around slowly."  
  
Heero froze, and slowly dropped his revolver.  
  
Duo, still on his knees, had his eyes closed and a gun pointed at his temple.  
  
"How very cooperative of you," said Marron, as Une kept her gun pointed at Duo. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"  
  
Heero said nothing but stared uncompromisingly at the other man.  
  
"Not much of a talker, are you?" asked Marron. "I suggest you find your tongue or your friend will be in some pain."  
  
"They're not security," said Une, "but I think the longhaired one is an employee."  
  
Duo nodded, opening one eye to look up at Heero, then squeezed his eyes shut again.  
  
"A friend who's staying here called me because the power was out," said Heero, finally.  
  
"Ah, I see," said Marron. "How unfortunate for you. Do you always come armed to check on a friend?"  
  
"Yeah," said Heero.  
  
Marron lashed out suddenly and struck Heero across the cheek, snapping his head to one side. Heero blinked once, shook his head a few times to clear it, swallowed the blood in his mouth, then stared at Marron with an unwavering blue glare.  
  
Marron raised his hand again.  
  
"Don't!" yelled Duo, struggling to his feet. A hand on his shoulder forced him down on his knees again.  
  
"Quiet!" said Une, grabbing his braid and pushing the revolver roughly into the side of his face. Duo winced.  
  
"Bring them with us," ordered Marron, grabbing Heero by the elbow and putting his revolver against his the back of his neck.  
  
Une pulled Duo to his feet by his hair and pushed her gun into the small of his back. She reached down and disarmed him with the other hand, tossing his pistol aside.  
  
"Well deal with them when we rendezvous with the others."  
  
Heero heard Wufei's battle yell resound in the darkness, a crash, then a hoarse scream. Marron's head jerked toward the sound. Heero dived for his revolver.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Are you okay?" whispered Quatre to Wufei, who was wiping the blade of his katana off on the sleeve of the dead man's jacket.  
  
"Yeah, thanks," said Wufei back. His hands were shaking in reaction. He took a deep breath to steady himself. His hands stilled.  
  
Quatre dropped the makeshift weapon of the antlers, now bloodied. He still held the dented copper vase.  
  
"I can't believe we just killed this guy," breathed Quatre in a shaky voice. His eyes were drawn to the glistening of blood in the almost non- existent light, and he fought to keep in control of himself. The rusty smell of blood assaulted his nostrils and he started to gag.  
  
"He was going to kill us," replied Wufei under his breath. "Here," he said, handing Quatre the sleek revolver butt first that the man had been carrying. "This might work better than decorations."  
  
"I think I'm gonna puke," moaned Quatre, but he took the gun and automatically checked the clip and the safety.  
  
They rose and turned toward the stairs, hearing voices in the lobby. "Was that Heero?" whispered Quatre.  
  
Wufei nodded. "I hope you're ready to use that thing," he whispered back, indicating the automatic pistol. He had the dead Latino's long knife in one hand, his katana in the other.  
  
"I'll do what I have to do," sighed Quatre, barely audible.  
  
They crept down the staircase, ducking down behind the railing.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"They're coming," said Zechs, his ear pressed to the door.  
  
"Not being very quiet about it, are they?" muttered Treize.  
  
Relena came into the room holding a candle in a glass holder. "Mil, the power is."she began, then gasped, almost dropping the small flame.  
  
"Oh my God!" she exclaimed. Zechs spun around. "Go back to the guest room and lock the door, Lena."  
  
"What is it?" she hissed.  
  
"Les Noire has found us," said Treize, ignoring Zechs attempts to quiet him.  
  
"She's not a child, Mil. She needs to know what's happening."  
  
"My God," exclaimed Relena again. "I've done this, haven't I? I led them here." She sat down heavily on a chair and put her face in her hands.  
  
"There's no way of knowing that for sure," said Treize, coming over to her, bending and putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Now, we all need you to be strong, and not give in to your fears. We aren't going to go down without a fight, you can rest assured about that."  
  
Relena reached up and clutched his hand. "I will," she said simply. "I'll be strong. Give me a revolver, I can shoot as well as any of you."  
  
Trowa grinned faintly in the candlelight. "That's some sister you have there," he said to Zechs.  
  
Zechs looked up. "If anything happens to her or Treize, there's no force on earth that can keep me from going after this scum until they're all choking on their own blood."  
  
Trowa nodded solemnly. "I know how you feel." He exhaled heavily. "Please be all right, Quatre," he thought, hugging himself as a sudden chill seized him. He rubbed his bare arms.  
  
"You all right?" asked Zechs, noticing the gesture.  
  
"Yes," said Trowa. "I'm worried about my partner."  
  
"You've been together for awhile?" asked Zechs, checking the clip on a shotgun.  
  
"4 years," said Trowa.  
  
"We're going to make sure it's a lot longer," said Treize in a commanding tone, coming over.  
  
A thud resounded against the door.  
  
"Company's here," said Zechs with grim humor.  
  
"Invite them in, Mil," said Treize through his teeth.  
  
Zechs pumped the shotgun once and blasted a hole through one of the doors. An exclamation and a loud curse where heard.  
  
Relena cringed, but held onto her revolver.  
  
Trowa took cover behind one of the leather sofas, beckoning Relena to join him.  
  
Treize did likewise behind the other sofa. Zechs pumped another round into the chamber, and blasted another hole in the heavy doors again.  
  
Trowa patted the young woman's arm reassuringly, and put his hand gently over hers that was gripping the gun.  
  
"Breathe," he said quietly. "Relax, or you'll jerk the trigger."  
  
She swallowed rapidly and nodded exhaling, consciously relaxing her death grip.  
  
Suddenly the door was kicked open, and Trowa gasped as Heero and Duo were thrust through the doorway. Duo stumbled and fell to his knees, bleeding in several places from one arm. Heero staggered, but managed to stay uprig. Zechs grabbed Duo and pulled him up to his feet, and stood in front of him, shotgun poised. Heero quickly took cover behind a leather chair.  
  
"Get down!" ordered Treize from his cover, and Zechs pushed Duo down behind an overturned table as gunshots rang out into the apartment from the doorway.  
  
"Mil!" screamed Relena, and the light from the candle went out, plunging the room into darkness. 


	22. Chapter Twentytwo

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Action, Adventure Pairings: 5+S, 3+4, 13+6, 1+2 Warnings: AU, Language, Violence, Yaoi Rating: R Archived: FF.net, S_E Updates, GWFF, SDQB  
  
Chapter 22  
  
"Mom, why are you up?" asked Matt, rubbing his eyes. He was standing in the hallway wearing his pajamas, and holding an old blanket he had slept with since he was a toddler.  
  
"I couldn't sleep, sweetie," said Sally, patting the sofa next to her. "Come and sit with me until you get sleepy again. I'm sorry I woke you up."  
  
Matt climbed up on the sofa next to her and slid his head onto her lap, still holding the tattered old blanket. Sally smiled, glad that he was still enough of a "baby" to let her cuddle him once in a while. Not that she'd ever say that to him.  
  
"Mom," began Matt in a sleepy voice.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You should marry Wufei," he said, and yawned again.  
  
Sally coughed. "Oh, and I suppose you have this all worked out?"  
  
"Well, I need a dad again, so you need to marry him. That's the way it works, right?"  
  
"Not exactly," said Sally dryly. She felt a gnawing pain of anxiety as she thought of Wufei's earlier phone call. Why hadn't he or Duo, or even Heero called her back?  
  
"You like him, right?" asked Matt, wiggling a little on her lap.  
  
"Yes, very much," said Sally, reaching down to rub his back. Matt stopped wiggling and sighed.  
  
"I think he likes you," said Matt seriously. "He looks at you funny."  
  
Sally couldn't repress a small hiccup of laughter.  
  
"Funny?" she had to ask.  
  
"You know, like he watches you do everything. Did you kiss him yet?"  
  
"Matty!" she exclaimed, giving him a tap on the shoulder.  
  
"Girls at school tried to kiss me at recess. So I know if you like a boy, you try to kiss him, right?"  
  
"I can see we're going to have to have a long talk about girls and kissing," said Sally.  
  
"I hate long talks," griped Matt drowsily. "They're boring and I don't get most of it anyway."  
  
"How about a short talk, then?" asked Sally.  
  
"Um," said Matt, sliding into sleep. "'kay."  
  
The phone rang, startling her and Matt mumbled and shifted in his half- aware state.  
  
Sally reached for the phone holding her breath.  
  
"Sally?" a familiar voice whispered.  
  
"Wufei!" she said, "Is that you?"  
  
"Sally, I don't have much time, so listen carefully. Call the police, and get them out here. I'm all right, but there are armed men at the inn and there's been shooting. We need the police, now."  
  
"Oh, my God!" she said in a loud, harsh whisper, gripping the phone.  
  
"Just get the police out here. And whatever you do, don't come out here."  
  
"But, Wufei!" she protested.  
  
"You can help us by getting the police here as soon as possible," he whispered. "NOW! I tried, but I can't get a signal outside of the local area. We're too remote."  
  
"I'll call them right away," she said, unconsciously whispering too. "Don't get killed, okay?" Her voice shook a little.  
  
"If anyone ends up dead, it won't be me," she heard him say in a hard voice.  
  
"I don't want to hang up," she said, choking. "I'm afraid I'll never hear your voice again."  
  
Silence. "You will," she heard, a determined sound. "I can't talk any longer. Sally, I-I love you, and I'm not going to die, okay?"  
  
"Okay," she agreed tearfully.  
  
"Don't cry, I need you to be strong now!" he said. "Call the police. I'm hanging up."  
  
The phone went dead.  
  
She dialed the number with shaking hands, looking at Matt peacefully sleeping on the sofa.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Quatre looked at Wufei as he turned off the cell phone. "We should have done that earlier."  
  
"Too busy trying to stay alive," said Wufei. They had taken temporary cover behind the reception desk.  
  
"They're up there in the apartment, and Trowa is there," said Quatre, his voice flat with tension.  
  
"Heero and Duo too," said Wufei. "To be honest, I don't know what to do next. There's just the two of us, and getting ourselves killed won't help anyone upstairs right now. We need the police."  
  
"I'm afraid if they're cornered, they'll simply kill everyone and try to get away," said Quatre. "If only we had some leverage, something they wanted."  
  
"We don't even know who these guys are and what they want," whispered Wufei.  
  
"It has something to do with Treize or Zechs, obviously," said Quatre. "I wish I could think! I keep thinking there's something I should be putting together about them."  
  
Wufei put a hand on his shoulder. "Just breathe. Waiting for the police is our best bet at the moment."  
  
"Trowa could be hurt or dead!" whispered Quatre furiously. "I don't know if I can wait and do nothing!"  
  
"You can't afford to indulge in that kind of thinking!" said Wufei harshly, giving his shoulder a shake.  
  
"You're giving them all the leverage they need to play you!"  
  
"I know!" said Quatre, shrugging off his grasp angrily. "Don't you think I know that? Remember me, the guy who makes all the deals?"  
  
"Then, goddammit act like it!" said Wufei. "Use that talent to get us something to work with instead of imagining the worse!"  
  
"There's something about Zechs," said Quatre pensively, pushing down his fear and anger.  
  
"What?" asked Wufei, curiously. "What about Zechs?"  
  
"I keep thinking I've met him before," said Quatre. "I know that sounds unlikely, but I can't ignore it."  
  
"Where do you think you met him?" asked Wufei curiously.  
  
"When I was much younger," said Quatre. "I used to go on business trips with my dad a lot."  
  
"You think Winner Enterprises did business with someone connected to Zechs?"  
  
"I don't recognize the name, though," said Quatre, his face clenched with the effort to remember.  
  
"Maybe he was called something else back then?" asked Wufei.  
  
Quatre's eyes came open in the dim light. "That's it!" he whispered loudly.  
  
"That's why I couldn't remember. I think Zechs is the Peacecraft heir, but his name was Milliard then. I remember now because it was such an unusual name. We met at parties and such a few times. My father did a lot of business with the Peacecraft Foundation."  
  
"You think these guys are after a ransom, then?" asked Wufei.  
  
"More than likely," said Quatre. "It's almost a blessing for me that I've been disinherited, more or less."  
  
"Then they won't kill them," said Wufei. "They just want money."  
  
"I hope so," said Quatre. "If they only want money, that gives us some leverage. Wufei, didn't you take that guy's two-way radio?"  
  
"Yeah," said Wufei. "Habit, I suppose. You take the enemies weapons and communications when dead or captured."  
  
"Give it to me," whispered Quatre. "I'm gonna make them an offer that they can't refuse."  
  
Wufei looked at him, frowning. "We should wait for the police."  
  
"If money is what they want," Quatre said. "I'll offer them all they want. I don't give a damn about money, I just want Trowa and my friends back, unharmed."  
  
"You know what?" asked Wufei, handing him the two-way.  
  
"What?" Quatre asked him in turn, taking the radio.  
  
"When it comes to making a deal, you've got more balls than a bowling alley."  
  
Quatre grinned nervously at him in the dim light. "Love makes you do crazy shit, doesn't it?"  
  
"Yeah," sighed Wufei. "It does."  
  
Quatre thumbed open the channel on the radio and cleared his throat to speak. "Hello?" he asked into the radio. "Can anyone hear me? My name is Quatre Raberba Winner, and I'd like to talk to whoever's in charge." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Duo, are you all right?" asked Heero, inching over to his lover.  
  
"Quiet!" said McGuire, slapping Heero hard across the face. Heero glared and spat out a mouthful of blood.  
  
"That's twice you've hit me," he said in a level voice. "Third times a charm."  
  
"Cocky little bastard, aren't you?" growled McGuire, raising a hand to slap him again. Heero's cold stare never wavered.  
  
"Quit wasting time with that one," said Marron sharply. "He's of no importance. Get your ass over here and help us with the hostages."  
  
"Later, you and me," said McGuire in a harsh whisper.  
  
"Looking forward to it," said Heero emotionlessly.  
  
McGuire grinned wolfishly.  
  
Heero leaned over and whispered in Duo's ear. "Duo, can you hear me?"  
  
"Yeah," Duo gasped. "Feel like I was eaten by a bear and shit off a cliff," he said hoarsely.  
  
"You were shot," said Heero. "I can't see, but I'm sure you're bleeding."  
  
"Treize is gonna kill me for bleeding on his Persian rug," whispered Duo, with an edge of hysteria in his voice.  
  
"Fuck the rug," said Heero. "Tell me where you're hit."  
  
"Arm, I think," gasped Duo. "Left arm feels like it's on fire. And I can't move it right."  
  
"Good, it's not a vital area," whispered Heero.  
  
"Easy for you to say."  
  
"Try to focus on your breathing," hissed Heero in his ear.  
  
"I think I'll focus on fucking killing the bastard that shot me," said Duo harshly.  
  
"That works too."  
  
"Heero?"  
  
"What, koi?"  
  
"Don't leave me, okay?"  
  
"I won't. I promise."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Mil," sobbed Relena. "Mil, answer me, please."  
  
"He's not dead," said Treize with a calmness he didn't feel. "Just unconscious."  
  
"Quiet," said Marron without heat. "Tell the girl to stop that infernal weeping or I really will kill him."  
  
"Relena," said Treize in the same tone. "Please, get hold of yourself. Mil's life depends on it."  
  
She swallowed a sob and nodded, although in the candlelit gloom the gesture was almost unnoticed. "I will."  
  
"Good girl," said Treize encouragingly. "I knew you could do it."  
  
"I've always wondered what it would take to unnerve you," said a feminine voice in the darkness.  
  
Treize started. "My God, Une?" he said in disbelief.  
  
"Well, at least you remember my voice," said Une in a cynical tone.  
  
"Why wouldn't I?" countered Treize, struggling a bit against the bonds on his wrists.  
  
"Because you discard people and things so easily," said Une bitterly. "Then forget them, I would assume."  
  
"No," said Treize, "What makes you say that? Une, are you with these men? Whatever for?"  
  
Une laughed hollowly. "Even now, you haven't a clue, do you?"  
  
"I don't," said Treize in a bewildered tone. "Why would you want to hurt us, to hurt me?"  
  
"God, you really are arrogant beyond all belief, you know that?" she said, pulling off her watch cap and kneeling down by him.  
  
"Yes, I suppose I am," he said quietly. "Because I have no idea why you'd do these things. You're not the woman I remember."  
  
"Oh, but I am the woman you created," hissed Une near his face.  
  
"I gave you everything, my loyalty, my advice, even my friendship for years and my payment was to be cast aside like yesterday's trash."  
  
"I couldn't work with you anymore, Une," he said. "You needed medical help, and I got it for you. I told you if you got better there would be a place for you with me again."  
  
"You had me committed!" she hissed. "I confided in you and you betrayed me!"  
  
"I only wanted to help you," said Treize quietly.  
  
"Liar!" she spat at him.  
  
"If you were in your right mind, you'd know I'm telling you the truth," he said.  
  
"I am in my right mind," she hissed. "I know when I've been betrayed."  
  
"You need help," said Treize.  
  
"I have help," said Une. "Les Noire has given me all the help I need."  
  
"Help to do what?" asked Treize. "Become a terrorist, a criminal?"  
  
She drew back her hand to strike him, but hesitated. "You hate me, don't you?" she asked brokenly.  
  
"No," said Treize. "I never did."  
  
She stared at him in the gloom.  
  
"Une!" barked Marron. "Enough of this banter. They're secure. Contact Reynaud and inform him that the hostages are secure."  
  
"I thought were gonna get rid of this one," said McGuire, nudging an unconscious Zechs with the toe of his boot.  
  
"Change of plans," said Marron smoothly. "The goose is going to lay the golden egg before we cook him."  
  
"Whatever," said McGuire, in a clipped tone. "I don't like it when I'm not in on all the details."  
  
"You'll get what we agreed to," said Marron. "That's all you need be concerned about."  
  
"They won't give you anything for him if he's dead," said Treize. "Let me make sure he's all right."  
  
Marron looked at him for a moment. "Okay, I'll untie you. Do one thing I don't like and you can join your boyfriend in blessed unconsciousness."  
  
He reached down and unlocked the leather shackles on Trieze's wrists.  
  
"Thank you," said Treize calmly. He slid over on the floor and touched Zech's face.  
  
"Mil," he said gently. "Can you hear me?"  
  
Zechs stirred a little. "I'm going to make sure your wounds aren't bleeding, I'll try not to hurt you."  
  
"I need some light," said Treize. Marron switched on a flashlight, making them all blink in the harsh light.  
  
Zech's face was pale in the unnatural light, but his eyelids fluttered. "Treize," he mumbled.  
  
"Yes, I'm here," said Treize soothingly. "You were shot, but the bullet seems to have missed anything vital," he said, checking the impromptu first aid that had been applied to Zech's side.  
  
"Hurts," mumbled Zechs. Relena bit her lip, but refused to sob. Trowa leaned over and whispered something to her, and she nodded.  
  
"I know," said Treize. "But you're going to be all right," he said.  
  
"Satisfied your amour isn't going to die?" asked Marron snidely.  
  
Treize nodded. "Yes," he said simply. "Thank you."  
  
"You're a polite bastard, I'll give you that," said Marron.  
  
"I'll need your wrists again," said Marron. "But, I'll be a nice guy and let you stay next to the pretty one here, all right?"  
  
Treize nodded wordlessly and offered his wrists.  
  
"That's a good boy," said Marron mockingly. "Play nice and I'll make sure that he lives. You're smart to cooperate." He locked the cuffs back onto the offered wrists.  
  
The darkness was interrupted by a faint burst of static.  
  
"Hello? Can anyone hear me? My name is Quatre Raberba Winner, and I'd like to talk to whoever's in charge."  
  
Trowa's head jerked at the familiar voice. "No," he whispered to himself.  
  
Marron pushed a button on his own radio. "I'm in charge here," he said. "How do I know you are who you say you are?"  
  
"You don't," said Quatre. "But, my signature is on the register in the lobby, and it'd be an easy matter for my family to identify it. They'll verify I'm here on vacation."  
  
"What are you offering?" asked Marron, licking his lips.  
  
"Money," said Quatre simply. "What else? In return for the lives of my friends."  
  
"I see," said Marron thoughtfully. He cut the connection and chuckled.  
  
"Well, it seems we have providence on our side this evening," he said to Une, grinning. "Two golden geese."  
  
"Reynaud would be pleased to know that the sole male heir of the Winner fortune has also found his way into our hands."  
  
"If he is who he says he is," said Une.  
  
"Why would he lie about such a thing?" said Marron.  
  
"If some of these folks we have trussed up are his buddies, they'll know," said Slim finally speaking.  
  
"Ah, finally an intelligent suggestion from our lanky friend here," said Marron.  
  
"Estevez," said McGuire, suddenly. "Ask him if he's seen Estevez. They must have his radio."  
  
Marron's eyes narrowed, "Ah oui, we do seem to be missing our Cuban friend," he said.  
  
He thumbed on the radio. "Monsieur Winner, perhaps you might know the whereabouts of one of our party?"  
  
"He's dead," said a voice, unmistakably Wufei's. Heero exhaled quietly as did Trowa, relieved.  
  
"And to whom do I have the pleasure of talking to now?" asked Marron with exaggerated politeness.  
  
"Chang Wufei," said Wufei coolly.  
  
"Monsieur Chang," said Marron. "Should I know your name?"  
  
"He's some movie guy," blurted out Slim, earning him a silencing look from Une.  
  
"Yes," said Wufei. "It's the last name you'll think of before you die."  
  
"Ah, Monsieur Chang believes this is a movie. He gives me the hero's line to the bad guy." Marron chuckled.  
  
"I don't do lines." Wufei's voice came clearly over the radio. "Only action."  
  
"I want to talk to Monsieur Winner," said Marron, sounding irritated.  
  
"I'm here," said Quatre.  
  
"I think perhaps you are more reasonable than your friend," said Marron. "Make your deal with me."  
  
"I'll give you my sister Layla's private phone number and you can call her," said Quatre. "State your terms to her. She's the acting head of Winner Enterprises. Then, let me talk to her, and you can have whatever you want if you let us all go."  
  
"You are direct, Monsieur Winner."  
  
"I try," said Quatre.  
  
"I have terms of my own," said Marron. "Turn yourself over to me, and then we call your sister, and she will know if you are who you claim to be and if you are worth anything to me."  
  
"No!" said Trowa, "Don't do it Quatre!" he yelled.  
  
"Ah, I think I have found one of your friends," said Marron, motioning to Slim. Slim yanked Trowa up by his bound hands and pushed him toward Marron.  
  
"Well, at least we know you're no doubt who you say your are, Monsieur Winner," said Marron. "Thank you for that, Monsieur..?"  
  
"Tu es un cochon," spat Trowa.  
  
"Always good to talk to a fellow countryman," said Marron, dark eyes glinting with amusement.  
  
"Trowa?" asked Quatre's voice over the radio.  
  
"I think he wants to speak with you, Monsieur Trowa," said Marron.  
  
"I'm here," said Trowa, giving Marron a dark look.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" asked Trowa in a harsh whisper.  
  
"I'm trying to get us all out of this mess," said Quatre.  
  
"By sacrificing yourself?" asked Trowa incredulously.  
  
"No," said Quatre, his voice pleading for understanding. "It's only money."  
  
"Don't give this piece of filth anything!" hissed Trowa. "Least of all yourself. Just get out of here while you still can."  
  
"Ah, il est tres brave, votre ami," said Marron, pulling the radio away from Trowa's face.  
  
"I can't do that," said Quatre's voice sadly over the connection. "You'll just have to forgive me, Tro."  
  
Trowa was pushed down onto one of the sofas by Slim. "Ah, I think he's gonna cry," said Slim, peering down at Trowa's face.  
  
Trowa bit his lip and said nothing, averting his face.  
  
"Are you prepared to surrender yourself to me, Winner?" asked Marron coldly.  
  
"Yes," said Quatre, "But only as an exchange. I want you to let Trowa Barton, Heero Yuy, and Duo Maxwell go in return. They're of no value to you anyway, and will only hinder your escape."  
  
"True," conceded Marron. "Very well, I'll let them go. Start walking up the stairs and I'll send them down at the same time."  
  
"I want to see them first," said Quatre.  
  
"Very well," said Marron in an annoyed tone. "McGuire, take these three gentlemen and show them the door." He pointed at Trowa, Heero and Duo.  
  
"Can you get up, koi?" asked Heero.  
  
"To get out of here I can run a fucking marathon," grunted Duo as he staggered to his feet. He leaned heavily against Heero, panting.  
  
"I'm not going," said Trowa, shaking his head. "I'm staying with Quatre."  
  
"Don't be stupid!" Heero grated at him.  
  
"I don't care," said Trowa stubbornly. "I'm not leaving him."  
  
"You're officially the biggest idiot ever born," said Heero.  
  
"Just get the hell out of here," said Trowa quietly. "Tell Quatre I'm waiting for him."  
  
"You're sure?" asked Duo, his eyes filling with tears of both pain and sadness.  
  
"Yeah," said Trowa, looking away. "Go."  
  
Heero held out his hands. "Untie my hands," he said to McGuire.  
  
McGuire sneered. "We'll play later," he said menacingly to Heero, taking a knife and roughly cutting the makeshift cloth strips that had been used to bind his hands.  
  
Heero put his arm around Duo and held him up. "Come on koi, we're leaving."  
  
McGuire opened on of the battered doors, looking around into the gloom.  
  
"He's coming," he said to Marron. Quatre's lone figure was coming up the staircase.  
  
McGuire shoved the barrel of his gun into Heero's back. "Go down slow, and don't try anything. And don't call the cops, because your friend's lives won't be worth a damn if we see cops."  
  
Heero began to walk to the top of the staircase, following the dimming light of the flashlight that McGuire held on them.  
  
Almost halfway up the staircase, they passed Quatre, who was looking resolutely forward.  
  
"He wouldn't come with us," said Heero in a low voice as he helped Duo down the stairs. "He's waiting for you."  
  
"I know," said Quatre softly. "It's all right."  
  
They passed, not pausing.  
  
"Sorry," rasped Duo to no one in particular.  
  
"Over here!" Wufei motioned to him from behind the reception counter where he still hid.  
  
They limped over.  
  
"Duo's hurt," said Heero, setting him down gently. "Bullet wound to the left upper arm. I think it's broken."  
  
"We need to get him out of here," said Wufei. "But, I can't leave Quatre and Trowa."  
  
"I'm okay," said Duo. "It doesn't hurt so bad anymore."  
  
"That's not always a good sign," said Heero. "I'm getting you out of here, but Wufei and I are going to come back and do what we can."  
  
"I had Sally call the police," said Wufei. "Although I have no idea of when they'll be here."  
  
"If our friends upstairs have any notion the police are coming, they'll kill everyone just to get away," said Heero grimly.  
  
"I know, but we can't do this on our own Heero," hissed Wufei. "This isn't the goddam war and we don't have a goddam tank!"  
  
"I don't need a tank, Wufei," said Heero. "Just a chance to take out four gun-toting maniacs."  
  
"We need to get out of here, then we can plan what we're going to do next," said Wufei.  
  
"And Duo needs a hospital," said Heero.  
  
"I left Duo's car parked outside and down the hill," said Heero. "We're going to drive him to Sally's and call an ambulance for Duo."  
  
Wufie cautiously stood up. "No one watching us, I think they really intended to let us go," said Wufei.  
  
"Keep down in case that lunatic upstairs changes his mind."  
  
With Duo supported between them, they crept to the kitchen door and made their way outside.  
  
TBC 


	23. Chapter Twentythree

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Adventure, Action Pairings: 1+2, 3+4, 5+S, 13+6 Warnings: AU, Language, Violence Rating: R Archived: S_E Updates, GWFF, SDQB, FF.net  
  
Chapter 23  
  
McGuire stuck his pistol in the small of Quatre's back and pushed him inside the partially ruined doors.  
  
"You don't have to do that, I came willingly," said Quatre levelly.  
  
In the combined glow of candlelight and flashlights, Quatre sought out Trowa's face.  
  
"Why didn't you go?" he asked Trowa, locking eyes with him, as McGuire pulled his hands behind him and bound them with a nylon cord taken from a pocket.  
  
Trowa merely shook his head a few times and averted his eyes. He'd already given the terrorists holding them enough leverage.  
  
McGuire marched Quatre over to the sofa where Trowa was similarly bound and pushed him down on to it, then went back to stand guard at the door.  
  
"I had to do this," said Quatre in a harsh whisper to his partner. "I couldn't let Duo and Heero suffer, they have nothing to do with this!"  
  
"And you do?" fired back Trowa low tones of outrage. "It's bad enough I got caught, but you turn yourself over to these animals?"  
  
"I know what I'm doing," hissed Quatre. "Did it ever occur to you that I simply wanted to find out if you were still alive?"  
  
Trowa's head jerked back in surprise.  
  
They were quiet for a few moments, then Trowa exhaled on a shuddering breath.  
  
"I don't know what to say," he finally whispered mournfully in the gloom.  
  
"Don't say anything," said Quatre in a voice choked with tears. "I knew you wouldn't go, that you'd be waiting for me. I wish you'd gone, but at the same time, I'm so grateful you're staying with me. Isn't that awful?"  
  
"No," said Trowa very quietly. "Because I feel the same way. I can't even imagine being without you."  
  
Quatre nodded and wiped his face by rubbing it on Trowa's shirt.  
  
"I have to think now," he said as much to himself as to Trowa, his face still muffled against the taller man's shirt. "Everything's going to be all right."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Duo's head lolled against the seat of the car as Heero drove to Sally's house.  
  
"I called her, she's waiting for us, called an ambulance," said Wufei.  
  
"Stay with me, Duo," said Heero, reaching over and shaking his knee.  
  
"Sleepy," mumbled Duo.  
  
"Wufei, try to keep him awake," said Heero. "I don't want him to lose consciousness if we can help it. At least not until we get to Sally's."  
  
"He's lost enough blood that he's probably going into shock," said Wufei.  
  
"I'll try tilting the seat back," he added, reaching forward from the back and pulling down the lever to lie Duo down.  
  
"Better," said Duo. "Not so dizzy."  
  
"We're almost there, Duo," said Heero. "We'll get you to a hospital."  
  
"Heero?"  
  
"What, koi?"  
  
"You didn't leave me."  
  
"No," said Heero, as they pulled into Sally's driveway. She was standing at the door and ran down to meet them.  
  
She launched herself at Wufei as he climbed out of the back and opened the passenger side to get Duo out.  
  
"Oh my God, look at you, you're covered with blood!" she gasped, holding him at arm's length and examining him in the porch lights.  
  
"It's not mine," he said grabbing her fiercely and burying his face in her hair.  
  
"Oh thank God," she said against his neck.  
  
"I need to help Heero get Duo into the house, he's the one that's hurt."  
  
"Yes, yes, of course," she said, pulling back reluctantly. "The ambulance is coming, they should be here soon. I called Hilde, too. She'll meet you at the hospital."  
  
"You called the police?" asked Heero, coming round to help lift Duo from the car.  
  
"Yes, I called them," said Sally. "They said that they have to bring in the FBI, this falls within their jurisdiction."  
  
"Kidnapping, extortion, international terrorism and attempted murder, you bet your ass it does," muttered Heero.  
  
"The local sheriff is coming here, though, to ask question you."  
  
"I'll talk to him," said Wufei. "You go with Duo to the hospital."  
  
They heard distant sirens, and turned around. "The ambulance," said Sally unnecessarily. "Paramedics and the sheriff."  
  
"Leave him in the car, then, we don't want to move him anymore than we have to," said Heero.  
  
He knelt down next to Duo on the driveway. "Almost over, koi," he said, and took Duo's hand and pressed it to his forehead, then his lips.  
  
The ambulance pulled up to the curb, and two paramedics jumped out of the back, with a large first aid kit.  
  
"He's in the car," said Sally to them. They went round back and pulled out a folding gurney and pulled it alongside the car. Heero moved back.  
  
"He's got a gunshot wound to the left upper arm, and it's broken," said Heero. "Lost a lot of blood."  
  
"We'll take good care of him," said one of the paramedics, a broad- shouldered Amerindian with his long hair braided into two tight plaits down his back. He grinned at Heero reassuringly in the flashing lights.  
  
"You two playing cowboy?" he asked, good-naturedly.  
  
Heero shook his head. "I need to talk to the sheriff about it," he said. "Can't really say."  
  
"Let's get him in the ambulance, he's stable," said the other paramedic, a tall muscular woman with short graying hair and an authoritative air. She closed the med-kit.  
  
"Good first aid, you kept him from bleeding to much," she said.  
  
"Can I ride with you to the hospital?" asked Heero. "I'm not from around here and I don't know the way."  
  
"Not supposed to unless it's family," said the Indian man, "He a friend of yours?"  
  
"We're lovers," said Heero, quietly. "He's got a sister, she'll meet us there."  
  
"Get in," said the man. "Not supposed to let anyone but spouses and family members come along, but screw the dumbass rules this time, right Marnie?"  
  
"Yeah, I aint' saying nothin," said the tall woman said. "I'll lie out my ass and say you're his brother or something if we get nailed on it."  
  
"Thanks," said Heero.  
  
"No problem," said the Indian man. "Get in and stay out of the way."  
  
Heero jumped up into the back of the ambulance. "Is all that his blood?" asked Marnie, taking in Heero's bloody shirt for the first time.  
  
"No," said Heero. "I took a few hits to the face, but nothing serious."  
  
"We'll take a look at you when we get done with your friend here," she said. "Sit down, you look like hell."  
  
"Can I sit next to him?" asked Heero.  
  
She nodded as the ambulance took off with lights flashing.  
  
"Sure, he's stable, and he keeps saying "Heero". Is that you?"  
  
"Yes," said Heero.  
  
"Well, it'll be a half hour before we get there. I checked him out, called the hospital and gave him something for the pain. He's gonna be groggy, but talk to him. It'll help keep him calm."  
  
"A half hour?" asked Heero.  
  
"Yeah, for worse emergencies, we have life flight helicopter, but since it's not a head or chest wound, we're okay taking a bit more time," said the woman.  
  
"Duo," said Heero. He reached for Duo's hand. "I'm still here."  
  
"Hi, Heero-baby," said Duo in a slurred voice. "Doesn't hurt anymore."  
  
"I'll say," said Heero, a tiny quirk of a smile on his bruised face. "You sound wasted."  
  
"Yep," said Duo. "Keep thinking I hear music or sumthin."  
  
"No, just me."  
  
"I'm glad you're not dead Heero-baby," he said drunkenly, as a tear slid down his face and onto the white sheet under him.  
  
"I'm glad you're not dead either," whispered Heero.  
  
"I never got to use my gun," said Duo. "Guess I'm not Billy the Kid after all." He sniffed loudly.  
  
"Baka," said Heero fondly and rested his head against Duo's good shoulder.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Wufei and Sally watched the ambulance drive away.  
  
"I need to speak with you," said a compact red headed man getting out of a gray truck marked Sheriff on the side.  
  
"Can we go inside?" asked Sally. "Wufei has blood all over him."  
  
"That your blood?" asked the sheriff, tipping back his hat and looking squarely at Wufei with piercing steel blue eyes out of a weather beaten face.  
  
"No, it's not," said Wufei. "Some of it was the man's who just was taken away in the ambulance with a gunshot wound."  
  
"And the rest?" asked the man.  
  
"Came from one of the men that have taken hostages at the inn," replied Wufei.  
  
"I guess before I ask you anything more, I better let you know your rights," said the sheriff. "I'm Roy Layton, by the way."  
  
"I'm Wufei Chang. Let's go inside, and I'll tell you all I can," said Wufei.  
  
He and Sally walked arm in arm into the house, Layton following them.  
  
"I had to call in the FBI," said Layton when they came inside.  
  
"So I heard," said Wufei.  
  
"Please sit down" said Sally. Layton removed his cowboy hat and sat down in an armchair.  
  
Wufei looked down at his shirt. "I don't want to get blood all over your sofa," he said.  
  
"Take it off and give it to me," said Layton. "Evidence."  
  
Wufei carefully stripped off his bloody t-shirt.  
  
"Got a plastic bag?" he asked Sally.  
  
"Sure, in the kitchen," she said. She turned to Wufei. "You left some of your things here, I'll get you a shirt." She left the room.  
  
Layton raised a ginger colored eyebrow. "You and the young lady involved, huh?" he asked.  
  
"Is that question part of your official investigation?" asked Wufei stiffly, sitting down and folding his arms over his bare chest.  
  
"Nope, just nosey," said Layton, grinning in an easy, open fashion.  
  
"You'll mostly be talkin to the FBI, son, but in the meantime, I need to know what's goin on up there."  
  
"There were at least 3 men that I saw, probably more," said Wufei. "Armed with automatic weapons, knives, wearing camouflage, two-way radios, night vision goggles. Mercenaries or terrorists, not burglars. They took the owner of the inn, Mr. Kushrenada, and his partner Mr. Merquise hostage, and also two friends of mine, Trowa Barton and Quatre Winner. Quatre Winner exchanged himself for my other two friends, the two men who went off in the ambulance."  
  
"And why would Mr. Winner do that?" asked Layton, his weathered face creasing with puzzlement.  
  
"Mr. Winner is the only living male heir of a deceased international industrialist," said Wufei. "He offered them himself and any amount of money they wanted to release his friends."  
  
"I'd say that was damn brave if it didn't make me cringe," said Layton. "Giving in to bastards like that only encourages them, in my experience."  
  
"I tried to convince him otherwise, but Mr. Winner is a very stubborn man," said Wufei, shaking his head.  
  
"Sounds like," said Layton.  
  
"Well, at least the three of you got out more or less intact," said Layton. "Now, you wanna tell me what happened to that fella you tangled with?"  
  
"He's dead," said Wufei. "I had my katana with me and I killed him with it when he shot at Quatre and me."  
  
"And what pray tell is a katana?" asked Layton, raising his brows again.  
  
"Asian style sword," said Wufei. "About this long," he extended his arm.  
  
"Sounds nasty," said Layton. "And you killed a fella who had an automatic pistol with this katana."  
  
"Yes," said Wufei. "We hid and I surprised him."  
  
"Well, I'd say that was some mighty fine stealth."  
  
Wufei looked slightly embarrassed. "I am a master of jeet kun do," he said simply.  
  
"Whatever you say, son," said Layton, grinning at him.  
  
"I have a shirt for you," said Sally, coming into the room holding a black t-shirt.  
  
Wufei stood. "I need to clean up first, please."  
  
"Of course, you know where the shower is," she replied.  
  
He inclined his head slightly in thanks, and took the shirt from her.  
  
"That's an interestin' fella you've hooked up with, Ms. Po," remarked Layton.  
  
"You have no idea," said Sally, a small smile breaking through her worried glance in his direction. 


	24. Chapter Twentyfour

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Adventure Pairings: 13+6, 1+2, 3+4, 5+S Warnings: Violence, Shounen-ai, AU, Citrus, some chapters  
  
Rating: R  
  
Archived: FF.net, SDQB, GWFF, S_E Updates  
  
Chapter 24  
  
"Excuse me, I need to check on my son and see if Wufei is all right," said Sally, leaving Layton sitting in the living room.  
  
"The local FBI ought to be showin' up here in a bit," said Layton. "I gave them your address and told 'em I'd be here questioning you."  
  
"Let them in when they come," said Sally, nodding.  
  
"All right ma'am," said Layton, crossing his legs and settling back in his chair for what was going to be a long night.  
  
Sally went down the hallway and first opened Matt's door to see if he was sleeping soundly. He was clutching the ratty blanket and his face was flushed and innocent in repose. She felt a wave of protectiveness looking at him.  
  
"I hope none of this is affecting him," came Wufei's voice from behind her.  
  
"No, he's sleeping like a baby," said Sally. "God, don't tell him I said that."  
  
"I won't," he said, slipping his arms around her from behind.  
  
His hair was still damp from the shower and the frightening smell of blood and fear was washed away. She pulled him closer and buried her face in his neck.  
  
"My friends are still in danger," said Wufei. "I have to do something. And Treize and Zechs are being held too. Who knows who else? If they're wounded or even dead? I have to do something."  
  
"The FBI will be here soon, they know how to deal with these kind of people, don't they?" asked Sally.  
  
"I hope so," said Wufei. "I'll help them anyway I can. I'm sure Heero and Duo feel the same."  
  
"I hope Duo is all right," said Sally, biting her lip.  
  
"He's lost blood, but he'll be fine," said Wufei. "Heero is with him. He won't let anything happen to him." Wufei recalled the look of grim determination on Heero's face with satisfaction.  
  
"I'm sorry about your friends, Quatre and Trowa," said Sally. "You must be insane with worry."  
  
"I still can't believe that Quatre traded himself," muttered Wufei shaking his head.  
  
"He must be very brave," said Sally.  
  
"Come on into my room, you need to try to rest a minute if you can," she said, opening the door to the bedroom and pulling him inside.  
  
"At least you can lie down a few minutes before the agents get here."  
  
He nodded reluctantly. He was wearing a bathrobe he'd left there and nothing else, carrying the clean t-shirt she'd given him earlier.  
  
"I need some clothes," he said, sitting on the bed and rubbing his temples wearily.  
  
"I'll get you some in a moment," Sally said, sitting down behind him and beginning to rub the back of his neck in a soothing fashion. He exhaled noisily and leaned against her.  
  
"You don't have to tell me what happened now," she said. "But I think at some point it will help if you do."  
  
"It's been a long time since I've had to kill anyone," he said quietly, as a small shudder ran through him.  
  
Sally gasped and stiffened, but then resumed rubbing his shoulders. "You did what you had to do to stay alive," she said firmly.  
  
"I've lost one good man, I won't loose you," she said, pressing her forehead against his back. "I don't think I could take it. Not when we've just found each other. And then there's Matt. He loves you. You know he asked me if you're going to be his dad now?" Sally swallowed hard.  
  
"My God," said Wufei, reaching around and pulling her into his lap.  
  
"When I was fighting, all I could think of was staying alive so I could see you and Matt again. Your faces," he said softly against her hair.  
  
"You need to lie down," she said, pushing him back on the bed.  
  
"Stay with me and I will," he said, pulling her down next to him and wrapping his arms around her.  
  
"Just rest now, you're safe," she said, stroking his hair until he closed his eyes and finally, his breathing became even as he lay in her arms.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Contact Reynaud," said Marron to Une, who pulled out a satellite phone from the small pack on her back. "Inform him of the changes in plan." Marron gazed at Quatre, still bound on the sofa next to Trowa and raised a speculative brow.  
  
Une nodded, walking away to dial in a series of numbers.  
  
Conversing in a low voice for several minutes, she finally turned and offered Marron the phone.  
  
"He wishes to speak to you," she said quietly.  
  
Marron listened intently for a few moments. "Yes, he's the Winner heir. It seems that we have been fortunate enough to have another one of your enemies at our disposal, Sir," he said in French.  
  
Quatre looked questioningly at Trowa in the low light, able to tell he was listening.  
  
"Did I hear my name?" whispered Quatre and Trowa nodded slightly.  
  
"Our leader wishes to speak with you," said Marron, finally, coming over and holding the phone to his ear so that Quatre could hear.  
  
"Do nothing unless you are instructed to," said Marron severely. "Say or do the wrong thing and I will gut your friend here in a heartbeat."  
  
Quatre swallowed and nodded. "I understand."  
  
"Well, Monsieur Winner, I finally have the honor of addressing you in person," said Reynaud's voice over the satellite telephone. "You may speak, Marron won't do anything to your friend unless I order it."  
  
"You have the advantage of me," said Quatre carefully.  
  
"You may call me Mr. Fox," said Reynaud silkily.  
  
"All right, Mr. Fox. I take it you've been informed I wish to offer a ransom for our release."  
  
"Yes, and I must say your offer interests me. After all, taking the ill- gotten gain of those who are destroying our world seems only fair. I will put it to much better use."  
  
"I'm not the head of Winner Enterprises, my sister Laylah is," said Quatre. "But I'm sure she will offer you anything you wish to free me and my companions."  
  
"Well, Monsieur Winner, I will contact your dear sister. And I'm sure she will be most eager to have her beloved brother back. But as for the others there, well, I cannot guarantee anything."  
  
"Peacecraft Industries will make a similar deal for the release of Zechs and his sister, I'm positive," said Quatre.  
  
"Ah, but there's where you are wrong," said Reynaud in a tone of mock regret. "I have not been able to secure their cooperation in this matter. It seems the authorities in Britain have a different attitude about dealing with situations such as this. I've given them 24 hours, but I'm afraid you may be saying farewell to Monsieur Peacecraft and his sister. C'est domage, n'est-ce pas?*"  
  
"NO!" said Quatre involuntarily looking over where Zechs was lying pale and still on one of the other sofas, bound around his waist in seeping bandages. Relena was casting a fearful look over at Quatre from her place at his feet, and Treize had an air of artificially imposed ease over his obvious tension.  
  
"I'm sorry, but that is the way it is," said Reynaud lightly. "C'est la guerre," he said. "And do not make the mistake of thinking this is any less than a war," he said, the silkiness now gone from his tone in a flash. "I am here to make war on those who make war with our planet," his tone rising to a fever pitch.  
  
"And so you will kill these innocent people just to make your point?" asked Quatre in a cold tone.  
  
"They are not innocent!" said Reynaud, now strident. "You are not innocent, Monsieur Winner. It is by raping the land that you and your family have acquired your fortune. I cannot let that go unpunished!"  
  
"But you're willing to take my family's money," said Quatre levelly.  
  
"Yes, for I know that is what is most important to you," said Reynaud, back to his former silky tone.  
  
"You're wrong, at least in my case," said Quatre. "I'd give you every penny for the life of my friends, and my lover. But, that's not up to me. I gave up my right to be CEO of Winner Enterprises and the money that went with it. I receive nothing from Winner Enterprises. Nothing!"  
  
"How commendable," said Reynaud sneeringly. "And believe me, I know this. Why do you think you are still alive, Mr. Winner?"  
  
"Then why harm Zechs and Relena?" Quatre asked him quietly. "They've done nothing, and their parents are dead. None of us can choose our parents, or our circumstances in life."  
  
Trowa looked over at him, realizing he was thinking of other things. How ironic that the very things his love had given up so painfully were now coming back to haunt him.  
  
"That is not my problem," said Reynaud harshly. "It is yours. I'll be saying au revoir for now, Monsieur Winner," he said, his tone silken again.  
  
Quatre looked up at Marron. "He's hung up," he said to the bald man.  
  
"I heard," said Marron shortly.  
  
"Your employer is a bit of a nutcase, isn't he?" muttered Trowa.  
  
To his surprise, Marron merely laughed. "Yes, but he's a nutcase that pays me very, very well."  
  
"So, it's the money you're mainly interested in," said Quatre.  
  
"What else?" asked Marron flippantly, shrugging. "We all know that is the real power in this world."  
  
"If that's true, then why do you exist upon Reynaud's leftovers?" asked Quatre, gazing at him speculatively.  
  
"Because leftovers are better than being dead," replied Marron shortly. "Reynaud is not tolerant of traitors in his midst."  
  
The shaven hawkish man absently fingered the long scar on his arm.  
  
"You know eventually Reynaud will be caught," pressed Quatre. "Even now Interpol is gaining on him in Brittany."  
  
"So, you do read the news," said Marron. "Yes, Reynaud is sometimes.overzealous in his mission. Some of my men have been caught." This was said reluctantly.  
  
"I'd think you'd want to be more than the errand boy of a psychotic," said Quatre with a slight tone of disdain in his voice.  
  
"Enough!" said Marron fiercely. "I need to think."  
  
He strode off to stand next to Une, putting their heads together and conversing in a low tone. Slim inserted a wad of tobacco lazily into his cheek and stood there smirking at them. McGuire shifted uneasily at the door, still standing guard.  
  
"What are you doing?" asked Trowa in an almost inaudible whisper.  
  
"Putting doubts in Marron's mind," said Quatre in the same tone.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Well, your friend lost a good amount of blood, but not enough to worry about," said the doctor at the emergency room to Heero.  
  
"He's up in surgery getting that arm pinned back together, and in a few days, he'll be good as new."  
  
"Thank you," said Heero, sitting back on the sofa in the waiting room, holding a now cold cup of coffee. Hilde was across the waiting room on the phone and came back over to sit next to him.  
  
"I called Sally, she says the FBI is there now, and they're questioning Wufei. They're wanting to question you too, Heero. I updated them on Duo's condition."  
  
"Whatever," said Heero quietly, drinking the coffee and grimacing a bit.  
  
"Thank you for getting him out of there," said Hilde softly, putting a hand tentatively on his arm.  
  
"I almost got him killed," said Heero, crumpling and throwing down the paper cup in disgust. "I'm a total idiot."  
  
"I don't think Duo feels that way," said Hilde. "All he could say to me before they took him to surgery is how much he loves you and how brave you are. He's alive, that's all I care about. Have you had those bruises looked at?" She reached up to touch his face and pulled her hand back at his brooding expression.  
  
"It's nothing that some ice won't take care of," he finally said.  
  
"I'll ask the nurse for some," said Hilde, getting up and walking over to the nurse's station.  
  
Heero watched her go and then looked down and sighed heavily, lying his head against the arm of the sofa and closing his eyes. "Duo," he said, as he clenched his hand around nothing. "Forgive me, Duo."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Wufei sat blinking his eyes, trying to clear his head, and gratefully accepted a cup of coffee from Sally.  
  
The two FBI agents sat across from him at the kitchen table, note pads out.  
  
One was an older man with prematurely graying hair, curly who looked like he might have played football when he was younger, judging from his build and a nose that had been obviously broken badly at some point.  
  
The other officer was female, late twenties, Wufei guessed, looking at her. She was angular and lanky, with a mannishly short blond haircut that actually looked good with her handsome squarish features and tall, athletic build.  
  
"I'm Agent Nat Morris," said the woman, holding out strong looking hand.  
  
"Nat?" asked Sally, sitting down with her own cup of coffee. The agents were also nursing some of the steaming brew.  
  
"Short for Natalie," said Morris. "Everyone calls me Nat. And this is Agent Bill Hastings, my superior."  
  
Wufei nodded his head in silent acknowledgment.  
  
"You and Mr. Yuy are our only witnesses to the situation at Green Mountain Spa," said Hastings, taking a sip of his scalding coffee. "I'll need to ask you to be as forthcoming as possible."  
  
"I have no reason not to be," said Wufei, gazing steadily at Hastings.  
  
"Sheriff Layton said you believe there were at least 3 individuals holding hostages at the inn," said Hastings. "Including the owner and his partner."  
  
"Yes," said Wufei. "I can only assume, because that is where they're holding the hostages, in Mr. Kushrenada and Mr. Merquise's apartment."  
  
"Layton says you admit to killing one of the kidnappers."  
  
"I did," said Wufei. "In self-defense. He had gun and was hunting myself and Winner."  
  
"And you say that Mr. Quatre Winner, your manager traded himself to the kidnappers in exchange for two of the hostages. Mr. Yuy and Mr. Maxwell."  
  
"Yes," said Wufei somberly. "He offered himself for Mr. Barton too, but he did not come down with the others. Either he chose not to come, or was wounded too badly to come down or he is dead." Wufei swallowed hard and blinked, and took a swallow of his coffee.  
  
"Mr. Barton is an employee of yours also?" asked Hastings carefully.  
  
"Yes, and he is one of my closest friends, as is Mr. Winner. This was supposed to be their vacation." Wufei clenched his hand around his cup.  
  
"Why did Mr. Winner offer himself to the kidnappers?" asked Morris, asking a question for the first time.  
  
"Trowa is his significant other, I believe is the phrase you would use," said Wufei, frowning around the awkward term. "They've been together for 4 years. Also, he felt the kidnappers would gladly exchange one of the heirs of the Winner fortune for a few unknowns who just happened to wander onto the scene."  
  
"Crazy," said Hastings, shaking his head. "Your friend is either crazier than a shit house rat or one brave son of a bitch. Excuse my French," he said, looking at Sally, who waved her hand in a dismissive fashion.  
  
"I've always thought he was a bit of both," said Wufei, a grim smile flitting across his features.  
  
"Now, what are we going to do to get him and the others out of there?" Wufei asked, looking Hastings squarely in the eye.  
  
"Working on it," said Hastings. "Morris here is a trained negotiator and a good one. We'll do what we can the easy way, and if things get rough, we'll have plenty of back up here by morning. If kidnapping is the game, we can't really do much until we know their demands."  
  
Morris' phone rang and she went into the living room to answer it. Hastings took a long drink of his coffee and waited.  
  
After a few moments, Morris came back.  
  
"That was from our headquarters in L.A.," said Morris. "Laylah Winner has been contacted by a man representing Les Noire with ransom demands. Also, we have word from Interpol that similar demands have been placed with Peacecraft Industries Paris and London headquarters in regard to Mr. Merquise and Relena Darlian, who apparently is his younger sister. They have not responded to the ransom demands."  
  
"Typical," said Hastings. "They pretty much have a no concessions to terrorist policy in Europe these days."  
  
"What are you going to do?" asked Wufei regarding them out of piercing dark eyes.  
  
"Whatever we can, Mr. Chang," said Hastings. "Whatever we can."  
  
TBC  
  
* "Too bad, isn't it?" 


	25. Chapter Twentyfive

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Action, Suspense Pairings: 13+6, 1+2, 5+S, 3+4 Warnings: Yaoi, AU, Language, Violence Rating: R Archived: S_E Updates, GWFF, SDQB, FF.net  
  
Chapter 25  
  
"I think our next move is to try to negotiate," said Morris, as Layton and Hastings looked over some of the statements that Wufei had given them.  
  
"We'd need a way to communicate to do that," argued Hastings. "Aside from the fact that they've threatened to kill the hostages if there is any involvement from the authorities."  
  
"I didn't say it had to be one of us," said Morris. "I gather from what Mr. Chang has said that Quatre Winner is trying a little negotiation of his own, and it seems to be working. If they'd killed the hostages, they'd have left by now, don't you think?"  
  
"Let's hope so," said Hastings, slurping the last of his cooling coffee.  
  
"Headquarters has word from Laylah Winner that they've demanded 20 million dollars for the return of Quatre Winner and his companion, Mr. Barton," said Morris, looking at the laptop she had open on Sally's kitchen table.  
  
"Can they pay it?" asked Hastings.  
  
"Yes," said Morris, "But you know as well as I do that doesn't mean we're going to get our hostages back intact, nor does it accomplish anything toward getting the other hostages released."  
  
"If they're even still alive," said Layton, gloomily. "Lord only knows what's goin' on up there."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"So, Monsieur Winner, it seems that your dear sister has most reasonably agreed to pay your ransom," said Marron, handing the satellite phone back to Une.  
  
"And how much of that will be yours?" asked Quatre. "You don't strike me as a man who is overly fond of sharing."  
  
"I will be well payed, I assure you," said Marron, frowning. "As my men will as well."  
  
"With the Cuban out of the picture, that's just more for the rest of us," said Slim thoughtfully, still chewing on his wad of tobacco.  
  
"It just seems that for a man who does not share Mr. Fox's ideals, you seem rather eager to finance them," remarked Quatre coolly.  
  
Marron leaned over and whispered to Une. She shook her head.  
  
"May we get some water?" asked Treize suddenly. "It's for him," he said indicating Zechs prone form on the leather sofa.  
  
"Slim, go get them some water," said Marron indifferently.  
  
"There are bottles of water in the refrigerator," said Treize helpfully.  
  
"Geez, I guess I get to do all the shit work," complained Slim, sauntering off into the kitchen with a flashlight.  
  
"Why tonight?" asked Trowa suddenly, as though he'd been deep in thought.  
  
"Excuse me?" asked Marron, looking up.  
  
"Why tonight?" repeated Trowa.  
  
"If you must know, all of the other guests had checked out this morning," said Marron irritably. "Our targets were only Peacecraft and his sister, originally."  
  
"I see," said Trowa.  
  
"Yes, finding Mr. Winner and your other companions here was pure chance," said Marron. "Although I can not say I am disappointed seeing as how it has made me 20 million U.S. dollars." He grinned wolfishly.  
  
"You mean Les Noire and Mr. Fox have gotten Winner Enterprises 20 million," corrected Quatre.  
  
"Whatever," said Marron, tightly. "I'm sure I will be amply rewarded for my part."  
  
"Why?" pressed Quatre, shifting on the sofa, his hands still bound behind him.  
  
"Yes, Marron," said Une suddenly. "What gives you the idea that Reynaud will give us a single penny of that 20 million?"  
  
"What?" said Slim. He was coming back in from the kitchen, his arms loaded with bottles of water.  
  
"There's nothing in my dealings with Reynaud that would indicate that he'd give any of us a dime of Winner's money." Une faced Marron, folding her arms and gazing steadily at him.  
  
"We shouldn't be discussing this now," hissed Marron.  
  
"Why the hell not?" asked McGuire from the doorway, "You aren't thinking of keeping anything more from the rest of us, are you?" He narrowed his eyes at Marron.  
  
"Yeah, we seem to be getting' cut out of few deals around here, said Slim, placing his load of bottles on a nearby table.  
  
"No one's cutting you out of anything," said Une sharply.  
  
"Could you untie me so that I might give Mil some water?" asked Treize, breaking the thick silence that had fallen upon the room.  
  
"Free all their hands one at a time so they can drink," ordered Marron, nodding to Slim.  
  
"Try anything and I'll slit yer gizzard," said Slim, reaching down to release Treize's hands and handing him a bottle of water.  
  
Treize rubbed his wrists briefly. He leaned over Zechs and gently rubbed his face. "Mil, are you awake?" he asked softly. "You need to take some water."  
  
"Treize?" said the injured man, his eyes fluttering open. "Are we still..?" He asked, his voice dry and hoarse.  
  
"We're still alive," said Treize firmly. "Now I need you to take a drink," he said in a soothing but commanding tone.  
  
Cradling Zechs head in his hand and gently pulling him up, he helped him take a few sips of water.  
  
"Still in pain?" whispered Treize close to his ear.  
  
"I've had worse," breathed Zechs. "Remember when that horse threw me and broke my leg?" he smiled raggedly.  
  
"Stay with me, love," said Treize, swallowing hard and taking his hand. "We'll be out of this before you know it."  
  
"Liar," said Zechs weakly, squeezing his hand.  
  
"I hate to break up this little love fest," drawled Slim, "But I gotta tie ya back up."  
  
"One more second," said Treize. He leaned over and brushed his lips against Zechs. "I love you, Mil," he said quietly.  
  
Zechs bit his lip but tears of pain and sadness leaked from the corners of his eyes. "Forever," he whispered. Treize reached up and gently wiped his face with the corner of his shirttail. "Forever, love," he repeated.  
  
"Oh, Jeezus," said Slim, shifting the tobacco in his cheek. "Y'all are making me wanna hurl."  
  
Treize averted his face and held out his hands, saying nothing. Slim hastily retied his hands. "I suppose I'll be takin' y'all for a piss before long," he sighed, standing up and stretching his lanky frame afterwards. "I feel like a friggin' kindergarten teacher here."  
  
He went to untie Relena's hands and handed her some water, which she drank gratefully. He then re-bound her hands.  
  
"Yer turn," said Slim in a bored tone, untying Trowa's hands and giving him a bottle of water.  
  
"I need to use the bathroom," said Trowa, not drinking and setting down the bottle of water.  
  
"Hey, boss, can I take this guy to the can?" asked Slim, holding a gun on Trowa.  
  
"Go ahead, but watch him carefully," said Marron, who was quietly conversing with Une in the corner.  
  
"Try anythin' funny and I'll off yer little friend there," said Slim, shining his flashlight around to find a bathroom.  
  
"He's not little," said Trowa calmly. "And if you 'off' him, no 20 million, because Winner Enterprises won't pay a nickel for me. Oh, I forgot, you're not getting any of that anyway."  
  
"Jes shut up," said Slim as he tried a door and found the bathroom.  
  
"I hope you can aim in the dark, buddy," he smirked.  
  
"I'm a man of many talents," said Trowa, smirking back at him.  
  
"Jes get in there and drain yer lizard," said Slim pushing him through the door.  
  
Trowa shut the door behind him. "No peeking," he said cheerily.  
  
"Christ, a comedian," said Slim, shifting his wad of tobacco as he leaned against the door.  
  
Once inside the bathroom, Trowa hastily began to feel around in the dim light for something he might use to escape later, thankful that the bathroom had a window that let some moonlight in.  
  
Carefully and quietly opening the medicine cabinet, he smiled as he found a package of razor blades and slid them inside the waistband of his jeans.  
  
He shrugged, went to the toilet and relieved himself, and flushed, then washed his hands and opened the door.  
  
"All spiffy now?" asked Slim sarcastically.  
  
Trowa gave the man a faint smile. "Just spiffy," he repeated.  
  
Slim marched him back to the sofa and sat him down next to Quatre.  
  
"Can I have my water now?" asked Trowa.  
  
"Yeah, go ahead," said Slim, untying Quatre and handing him a bottle too.  
  
They both drank quietly and finally sat the bottles down.  
  
"Ready to get tied up again?" smirked Slim.  
  
"Could you leave us untied for just a moment," asked Quatre, assuming his best pleading expression. "My arms are getting really sore."  
  
"Sure, you don't look too scary," said Slim. "I'll give ya a few minutes. After all, I don't want them folks of yers with the dough thinkin it was me that was treatin ya bad."  
  
"Thank you," said Quatre sincerely.  
  
"Jest don't try nuthin," warned Slim.  
  
"I just want to give my boyfriend a hug," said Quatre in a quavering voice. "I'm scared."  
  
"Oh, jeez, go ahead," said Slim, averting his eyes and stepping back a few paces. "As long as I don't haveta watch. Buncha perverts."  
  
He wrapped his arms around Trowa. "Nice acting," whispered Trowa in his ear. "Not that I mind the hug."  
  
He felt Quatre smile against his neck. "I know you're up to something, but hold off until we have the advantage," Quatre whispered.  
  
"You got it Kimosabe," said Trowa, kissing him on the neck.  
  
"Keep kissing me, I hope it makes Slim lose his cookies," hissed Quatre.  
  
"You got it, lover," said Trowa audibly, pulling him close and kissing him thoroughly on the mouth.  
  
"All right, enough of that," said Slim, wrinkling his nose. "I'm about to upchuck."  
  
Quatre smiled at Trowa and then bit his lip and assumed a sad face.  
  
"Thanks for letting me say good-bye," he sniffed, allowing a few tears to leak down his face.  
  
"Aw, shut up," said Slim retying his arms.  
  
"You're a nice man, Slim," said Quatre, laying it on. "I'll tell my sister that you treated me well."  
  
"Really?" said Slim, now tying Trowa's hands.  
  
"Oh, sure," said Quatre, still giving him a wide-eyed tearful look. "She might even want to make sure you're given a little something on the side."  
  
"Sounds good to me," said Slim. He leaned over in a confidential manner, and Quatre got a good look at tobacco stained teeth and dirty, stringy blond hair.  
  
"I'm only doin' this for the dough-ra-mi, ya know," he said quietly, blowing his foul breath in Quatre's face. "I'm not such a bad guy."  
  
Quatre held his breath. "I'm sure you are," he said, trying not to gasp.  
  
Slim grinned at him and walked off a few paces, assuming his "guard" stance.  
  
"Whew," said Quatre under his breath.  
  
Trowa looked at him, eyes crinkling. "I think Slim's breath is our torture," he whispered.  
  
Quatre rolled his eyes. "You said it!" he hissed through his teeth.  
  
Slim chewed his tobacco obliviously a few paces behind them.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Heero's voice was the first thing that Duo heard as he regained consciousness.  
  
"He can hear you, keep talking," said another voice, and then he heard Hilde.  
  
"Duo, Heero and I are right here," she said, and he felt someone stroke his good arm.  
  
"Can you open your eyes, Mr. Maxwell?" another female voice said near his head. "You won't be able to see much, but I want to check your pupils."  
  
He opened his eyes and a bright light was flashed in them, making him wince. He closed them quickly.  
  
"Everything looks good," the voice said. "I'll leave you to visit with him."  
  
"Heero?" he asked in a voice that sounded like he'd been gargling with sand.  
  
"I'm here," he heard and felt a strong hand take his good one and squeeze it. He squeezed back weakly.  
  
"Hilde?" he asked next. "Right here," he heard her voice say.  
  
"Wanna go back to sleep," he rasped. "I'm cold, sleepy."  
  
He felt the weight of a warm blanket wrapped around him then oblivion again.  
  
Heero brushed the strands of long bangs out of Duo's face. "They'll pay for hurting you," he whispered. "We'll put them where they can't hurt anyone else."  
  
Hilde looked at him for a moment and then reached over and placed her hand over Heero's.  
  
"You do that," she said.  
  
"Tell Duo when he wakes up that I went to Sally's," said Heero, gently disengaging his hand. "The agents are there waiting to take my statement and as soone I'm done, I'll come back. Can I borrow your car?"  
  
"Godspeed," said Hilde, releasing his hand after squeezing it. He nodded at her and she handed him her car keys.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wufei looked at the clock in Sally's kitchen. It was 4:46 am.  
  
"Almost dawn," he whispered to himself, drinking another cup of coffee. He'd lost track of how many he'd consumed since his short nap earlier.  
  
Sally had given up and gone to bed to try to get some sleep a few hours ago.  
  
Wufei looked at the two FBI agents as they huddled over their laptop. He was getting impatient, and between a lack of sleep, adrenaline and caffeine, he could feel himself getting ready to explode from lack of activity.  
  
"Come up with anything new?" he finally asked.  
  
"We're really not at liberty to say," said Morris, looking apologetic. "You are a civilian after all."  
  
Wufei scowled at her. "I'm a retired Army officer," he said. "To be precise about it."  
  
"Sorry," said Morris. "I didn't know that." She flashed Hastings a look and he shrugged.  
  
"So is Mr. Yuy, and he's also a licensed private investigator and an attorney," said Wufei, "My attorney."  
  
"Please try to cooperate with us, Mr. Chang," said Hastings. Layton had left a few hours ago to check in with his office and had promised to send one of his deputies in his stead.  
  
"You don't seem to be doing anything," said Wufei. "If you don't mind me saying so."  
  
"We can't just go in there with guns blazing," said Hastings. "As much as we might like to, that rarely resolves these situations. I assure you, we do have agents in place surrounding the inn, and if they see anything that leads them to believe they should take action, they'll contact us."  
  
"How many?" asked Wufei.  
  
"I'm not at liberty to say," said Hastings, looking away.  
  
Wufei scowled at him. "Great," he said sarcastically, clenching his teeth.  
  
He heard a car pull up in the driveway and excused himself and went to the door. He watched a very weary Heero walk up the drive.  
  
"Heero Yuy is here," he said to the two agents at the table.  
  
Heero came inside and looked around. "Got any coffee?" he asked Wufei. He was wearing a scrub top he'd been given at the hospital to replace his blood soaked shirt. Lines of exhaustion were etched around his eyes and mouth, bruises starting to become livid under his skin, and a dark stubble was appearing on his jawline.  
  
"You look like shit warmed over," said Wufei, embracing him.  
  
"Thanks, you're no raving beauty yourself," said Heero quietly.  
  
"Did you get any sleep?" asked Wufei.  
  
"A bit in the waiting room," said Heero. "Duo's okay, he just got out of surgery and he's going to be fine."  
  
"Good news," said Wufei. "Want something to eat with that coffee?" he asked.  
  
"Sure," said Heero. "Something light, please," he said.  
  
Wufei nodded and led him to a seat in the kitchen across from the two agents.  
  
"We need to ask you a few questions," said Hastings, introducing himself and Morris quickly.  
  
"Go ahead," said Heero, accepting a cup of hot coffee and a few pieces of toast from Wufei and nodding his thanks.  
  
"Can you tell us anything about the condition of the hostages?" asked Morris.  
  
"Zechs Merquise was wounded," said Heero, "A gunshot wound to the shoulder, I think, but I don't know how badly. They'd bandaged him to stop the bleeding and he seemed to be holding his own when Duo and I left the apartment," said Heero, taking a deep breath.  
  
"No one else injured?" asked Morris. Heero shook his head. "Just Duo and Merquise."  
  
"What kind of weapons did they have?" asked Hastings. "Any explosives, automatic weapons?"  
  
"Just automatic weapons as far as I could tell," said Heero. "I got the idea it was pretty much going to be a straightforward execution or kidnapping to start with, but they hadn't counted on the rest of us interfering."  
  
"And why did you go to the inn, Mr. Yuy?" asked Morris.  
  
Heero gazed at for a moment through bloodshot eyes. "My friends needed me and I came," he said simply.  
  
Morris raised her eyebrows. "I see," she said.  
  
"Is that all?" asked Heero abruptly, pushing back his chair and eating a piece of toast.  
  
"Yeah, for now, but hang around, okay?" said Hastings.  
  
"Wufei, I'm gonna sack out on the couch for a bit, okay?" asked Heero, taking a swallow of coffee.  
  
"Sure, go ahead," said Wufei. "I'm going to do the same," he said. "There's a comforter on the back of the sofa."  
  
"Thanks," said Heero. "If I don't get some sleep, I'm gonna pass out on my feet. See you in a few," he said to Wufei. He went off into the living room.  
  
"We're gonna pack up and go to our motel," said Hastings. "The number is here on the table to contact us."  
  
Wufei nodded. "Let us know whatever you can," he said.  
  
Hastings and Morris packed up a few items and left.  
  
Wufei went into the living room and nudged Heero on the shoulder.  
  
Heero opened one bloodshot eye. "What?" he said.  
  
"What are you planning, Heero?" asked Wufei, regarding him speculatively.  
  
"After I get a little sleep," said Heero, "I'm gonna sneak back over to the inn and take out a few nutcases commando style," he said seriously.  
  
"And just how to you propose to do that?" asked Wufei.  
  
"As soon as I get my hands on a weapon, I'll show you," said Heero. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need my beauty sleep."  
  
"Yuy, you aren't going anywhere without me," said Wufei.  
  
Heero opened his eyes. "If you come with me," he said, "Just know that I'm taking no prisoners."  
  
"I understand," said Wufei, regarding him. "I have some clean clothes you can borrow when you wake up, and I know Sally can arm both of us."  
  
"Good," said Heero. He yawned. "Now go get some sleep or neither of us will be worth a damn," he said.  
  
TBC  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	26. Chapter Twentysix

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Action, Romance, Suspense Pairings: 13+6, 1+2, 3+4, 5+S Warnings: AU, Citrus, Language, Yaoi, And Het Rating: R Archived: S_E Updates, FF.net, SDQB, GWFF  
  
Chapter 26  
  
"Heero, are you awake?" asked Wufei, bending over him and shaking one shoulder.  
  
Heero cracked open an eye that was beginning to blacken a little.  
  
"Shit, it is dawn already?" he asked in a cracked voice, sitting up and rubbing his bruised face.  
  
"If were going to do this, we have to leave before Morris and Hastings get back here."  
  
"Coffee," croaked Heero.  
  
"Already made," said Wufei. "Weapons ready too." He pulled back the lightweight black denim jacket he wore to reveal a .44 revolver in a shoulder holster. There were 3 extra clips of ammo in his pockets.  
  
"Gotta love a woman that packs heat," said Wufei, smiling wolfishly at Heero.  
  
Heero quirked up a side of his mouth. "Got one of those for me?"  
  
"Mine's bigger, though," joked Wufei grimly, handing Heero a .38 police special in a similar holster and extra clips.  
  
"Man, I hope this firepower isn't just lying around the house," said Heero.  
  
"Nope, all locked up in a hidden floor safe, normally. There's the boy to think about," said Wufei.  
  
"So," said Heero speculatively, looking up at Wufei. "You up for this?"  
  
"Trowa and Quatre are my friends," said Wufei simply. "I can't wait for the FBI to get off its ass and do something to get them out of there."  
  
"We could be getting ourselves in a lot of legal trouble," said Heero levelly.  
  
"That's what I have you for," said Wufei. "If you can't find the loopholes to save our asses, you're not half the lawyer I thought you were."  
  
Heero grinned very faintly. "Frankly, there's not much they'll want to do to us when they find out that Wufei Chang is a real life action hero off screen too. You have any idea how the media will eat that shit up?"  
  
Wufei scowled. "Whatever," he scoffed, a faint color appearing across his cheekbones.  
  
"You really hate that celebrity crap, don't you?" asked Heero.  
  
"It's just a blasted job," shrugged Wufei.  
  
"You say good bye to Sally?" asked Heero.  
  
"No, because I'm coming right back," said Wufei.  
  
Sally came out of the hallway, dressed in jeans and a navy long sleeved T- shirt in the morning chill.  
  
"You bet your ass you are," she said, coming over to the two men.  
  
"Thank you for not trying to talk me out of this," said Wufei.  
  
"If I thought I could, I would," said Sally. "But if I don't hear from you in 3 hours, I'm coming after you myself," she stated firmly. She handed him a cell phone.  
  
"No you're not," said Wufei, frowning at her.  
  
"Try and stop me," said Sally, frowning back at him.  
  
"Either we're going to do this quick or not at all," said Heero. "Hold off the authorities until we get there, at least."  
  
"I'm not telling them a damn thing until 9:00 o'clock," said Sally. "I already promised Wufei that."  
  
"Just tell them you woke up and we were gone," said Wufei. "Let them figure out the rest."  
  
"Don't get killed," said Sally suddenly, looking down and biting her lip.  
  
"They didn't kill me last time," said Wufei assuredly. "And this time, I have a gun."  
  
"Sally told me a way to get in through the back," Wufei told Heero. "There's a service entrance through the mechanical room to access the pumps, heating, air-conditioning and plumbing. She gave me a key."  
  
"It's behind the kitchen on the north side," said Sally.  
  
"Sounds perfect for what we need," nodded Heero.  
  
"We have to go before it gets any lighter," said Wufei.  
  
Heero drained his cup of coffee. "Let's head out." He had the keys to Duo's car in his hand.  
  
"I have water and energy bars in my pack," said Wufei, indicating the small daypack on his back.  
  
"I couldn't eat if I wanted to," said Heero. "But good idea."  
  
Wufei grabbed Sally by the shoulders. "I'm coming back," he said again.  
  
"You'd better because if you get killed, I'll dig you up and kill you again myself," said Sally in a choked voice. "If it weren't for Matt, I'd go with you, you know that."  
  
"Crazy woman," said Wufei, kissing her fiercely and releasing her.  
  
"I have to go," he said, turning around and not looking back as he followed Heero out of the door.  
  
"I know," she whispered. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Treize rested his head against his knees, dozing as well as his restraints and awkward position allowed. The kidnappers had taken shifts at guarding them, and Slim was half asleep in a chair, supposedly watching them as they slept.  
  
A groan from Mil awakened him from his light sleep. Blinking in the light beginning to filter into the windows, he shifted until he could see his partner's face.  
  
"Mil?" he said very quietly. Relena was asleep on one of the overstuffed chairs in the room, finally succumbing to exhaustion over fear.  
  
"Treize, is it morning?" asked Mil, blinking and trying to shift against the pain in his side.  
  
"Almost first light," Treize whispered.  
  
"They should have killed us, what happened?" asked Mil.  
  
"They want money, a ransom."  
  
"Peacecraft's board of executives will never pay," gasped Mil, "so we're dead anyway."  
  
"I think Winner is plotting something," said Treize under his breath.  
  
"They want me dead because I can identify Reynaud," said Mil. "But we can save Lena."  
  
"Don't talk that way!" hissed Treize. "I'm not going to let them kill you!"  
  
The blond haired man didn't respond, and Treize leaned closer to see he was unconscious again.  
  
"I won't let them kill you," he repeated under his breath.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Tro," said Quatre very quietly. One emerald green eye opened slowly and then another.  
  
"Bad dream," muttered Trowa, struggling to right himself on the sofa with Quatre lying against him.  
  
"Reality, I'm afraid," said Quatre, still whispering.  
  
"So, what's up for today?" said Trowa lightly. "A little swim, some raquetball?"  
  
Quatre bit the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling. "Remind me to compliment you later on how amazingly sang froid* you are."  
  
"I wish I didn't get so much practice," said Trowa, trying to stretch his kinked shoulder muscles. "I can't take you anywhere."  
  
"I think we're making progress with Marron," whispered Quatre.  
  
"Yeah, he's ready to feed Mr. Fox to the wolves by now."  
  
"Nice metaphor," said Quatre, visualizing it.  
  
"Merci," said Trowa. "I try."  
  
Marron came into the room, with Une following closely behind him, obviously irritable.  
  
"Bring Winner over here," he said to Slim, nudging him fully awake non too gently with his elbow.  
  
"I'm only going if Trowa goes with me," said Quatre, feigning alarm.  
  
"Ya better let the pansy take his boyfriend with him," drawled Slim, "He might cry." Slim leered nastily at Quatre, who pretended to cower.  
  
"Very well, bring both of them," said Marron, giving Slim a disgusted look.  
  
"Tobacco swilling barbarian," muttered Marron.  
  
"Hey, at least I ain't no rope sucker," protested Slim.  
  
"Thank God for that," murmured Trowa almost inaudibly, causing Quatre to bite his cheek again for self-control.  
  
"Bring them and be quiet!" said Marron, raising his hand as if to backhand Slim.  
  
"Hey, boss, don't go losin yer temper, I'm on it," protested Slim, ducking, then going over and pulling the two men to their feet none to gently.  
  
Treize watched beneath lowered eyes as Quatre and Trowa were herded into his office and the door shut. McGuire shifted uncomfortably as he resumed his post by the door, and Slim stood outside of the office door, looking bored, as usual.  
  
Marron opened the blinds on the windows and let in the dim dawn light.  
  
"I'm considering allowing your release," he said directly to Quatre. "But I need your help."  
  
"You need MY help?" Quatre echoed, trying to control his elation.  
  
"Yes, I need you to make it appear to Reynaud as if I intend to turn the 20 million over to him."  
  
"So, you've decided not to share," said Quatre. "A wise decision on your part, if I may say so."  
  
"Say whatever you wish," snapped Marron. "20 million dollars will provide me with the means to escape Reynaud and his ridiculous agenda and make my own start in the world."  
  
"Don't forget me, love," purred Une. "You know how I despise that psychotic bastard. It was only the prospect of paying back Kushrenada that got me into this in the first place."  
  
"Just keep that cretin Sanderson under control," said Marron. "We'll give him, McGuire, and that yokel Slim enough to go their way, and we'll go where even Reynaud will never find us."  
  
"What about the others?" ventured Quatre.  
  
"I haven't decided that yet," said Marron. "What do you care, anyway?"  
  
"I care because it is my nature to care," said Quatre stubbornly. "And we've come to be friends in a short period of time."  
  
"I cannot help your nature," said Marron harshly.  
  
"If you kill them, the authorities will not let the matter go," said Quatre.  
  
"But if you leave them alive, they might give you the bargaining leverage you need to get out of the country."  
  
"Something to consider," said Marron, gazing at Quatre speculatively.  
  
"I think our moronic friend Slim has the wrong impression of you," said Marron. "You are quite the cool headed businessman, Monsieur Winner."  
  
"I try," said Quatre simply.  
  
Marron chuckled. "As long as I get my money, your friends and you will no doubt be free by this evening."  
  
"Thank you," said Quatre, "I knew we could settle this without further violence. Can I make a request?"  
  
"What is it?" asked Marron.  
  
"Could we please not be bound?" asked Quatre. "I give you my word we'll do nothing to escape until the arrangements for your money have been made."  
  
"And what is your word worth?" asked Marron, narrowing his eyes.  
  
"20 million dollars," said Quatre simply.  
  
"Untie them," said Marron, looking in to Quatre's level aquamarine gaze.  
  
"But!" Une protested.  
  
"Untie them!" he repeated sharply. "I want him to be able to say to his sister that he and his companion are unbound and unharmed!"  
  
"Very well," said Une, reluctantly. She handed Marron the satellite phone and went to untie their hands.  
  
Quatre rubbed his wrists to restore the circulation and looked over at Trowa, who was doing the same.  
  
"I told your sister she could speak with you to assure her that you are still alive and unharmed," said Marron.  
  
"I'll do that," said Quatre, as Marron dialed a number.  
  
"Your sister has been most cooperative, she has made no effort to contact the authorities as far as we can ascertain."  
  
Quatre nodded as Marron pressed the phone to his ear.  
  
"Laylah?" he said, taking a deep breath. "Don't cry, Laylah," he said, pleading. "I'm fine, and so is Trowa.. I swear, no one is forcing me to lie.. No, they untied me, and I'm not hurt..I'll be seeing you soon."  
  
"Very touching," said Marron, taking the phone. "The arrangements we discussed for the return of your brother still must be followed, or else that will be your last conversation with him." He ended the call.  
  
"Now we wait," said Marron, licking his lips like a hungry wolf.  
  
* French for "cold-blooded" but often used as a compliment for someone who keeps cool when in danger. 


	27. Chapter Twentyseven

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Action, Suspense Pairing: 13x6, 1x2, 3x4, 5xS Warnings: AU, Yaoi, Language, Violence Rating: R Archived: S_E Updates, GWFF, SDQB, FF.net  
  
Chapter 27  
  
"She wasn't really crying, was she?" whispered Trowa, flexing his freed hands again.  
  
"More like chewing me out royally," sighed Quatre in his ear. "I must be insane."  
  
They were still in what they assumed to be a guest bedroom of Trieze and Zechs' apartment, Marron and Une holding counsel quietly in one corner, heads together.  
  
Quatre and Trowa sat on the bed.  
  
"Allah, but I'm tired," said Quatre, rubbing his red rimmed eyes and scratching his chin.  
  
Trowa slid an arm around his waist, allowing the smaller man to lean against him. "Be over soon," he said. "You should lie down."  
  
"What about you?" asked Quatre, looking up. "You have to be at least as exhausted as I am."  
  
"I'll let you sleep first, then wake you up."  
  
"You don't trust them anymore than I do," stated Quatre in a whisper close to his ear.  
  
Trowa shook his head once.  
  
Quatre lie on the bed with a sigh. "I don't know if I can sleep," he said aloud.  
  
"I suggest you attempt it," said Une, breaking her huddle with Marron and coming over.  
  
"As a show of good faith, we'll allow you to stay here in this room, with a guard at the door of course. No tricks."  
  
"Of course not," said Quatre, managing to sound slightly indignant.  
  
"It has been a pleasure doing business with you," said Marron, grinning humorlessly.  
  
He and Une left, making sure that Slim was outside the door as guard.  
  
"The pleasure was all mine," said Quatre, closing his eyes. He patted the bed beside him. "Might as well lie down Tro, and wait for the fireworks to start."  
  
Trowa lay down next to him and put his head on Quatre's shoulder. "You need a shower," he said, rubbing his nose along Quatre's collarbone.  
  
Quatre chuckled. "You'll just have to take me as I am, muHibb."  
  
"I'm sure I'm no sweeter," said Trowa, smiling against his neck.  
  
"I never noticed. You're here, that's what counts."  
  
"We're playing a dangerous game, mon coeur."  
  
"It's the only game I think I can win," said Quatre soberly, pulling him closer. "I just hope I'm reading the cards right." He exhaled and closed his eyes.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"We're loosing night cover," said Heero, sitting up among a large group of boulders on a hill behind the inn.  
  
"Considering we've avoided a road-block and 6 FBI agents," said Wufei, "I think we're doing quite well for a couple of idiots playing vigilante."  
  
Something that looked vaguely like a smirk passed over Heero's stoic features.  
  
"We still got it," he said, gazing down the hill at the inn. "We're stealthy."  
  
"Well, let's make sure we keep it," said Wufei sarcastically, beginning to creep slowly towards the rear entrance of the inn, Heero close behind.  
  
"Admit it, you're getting a rush from this," said Heero, as they picked their way around boulders and brush.  
  
"If you call gut wrenching terror a rush, yeah," whispered Wufei.  
  
They made their way in silence to the entrance to the mechanical room, and Wufei used the key. The door opened with a slight squeak, which made Wufei start slightly.  
  
Heero went in first, gun drawn, making no sound, Wufei following.  
  
"Remember our plan," hissed Heero, as they came out in the kitchen.  
  
"We have a plan?" asked Wufei back at him, whispering.  
  
"Not funny," growled Heero.  
  
They inched through the kitchen where Duo and Heero had come through earlier. Heero thought of Duo lying pale against the rough white hospital sheets and ground his teeth.  
  
When they came to the door that led out to the dining area, Heero stopped and listened intently, then motioned Wufei on through.  
  
They went on to the door entering the lobby, stopping again.  
  
"Where is everyone?" asked Wufei, almost inaudibly.  
  
Heero pointed up. They slowly opened the door, and a shot rang out, slamming into the door Heero had opened.  
  
He quickly stepped back. "Okay, that was a bad idea," said Heero.  
  
McGuire called out, "Whoever's down there, surrender yourself now, and I might not blow your fucking brains out."  
  
"I'm going to pretend to surrender, and you jump out and shoot him," whispered Wufei.  
  
"Great idea, why don't you just shoot yourself, baka?" grunted Heero.  
  
"You got a better one?" asked Wufei. Heero shook his head.  
  
"Don't shoot!" yelled Wufei, "I'll drop my gun and come out."  
  
He slid his gun out on the floor and stepped out, hands in the air.  
  
"Well, you're not a cop," said McGuire, coming down the stairs, his gun trained on Wufei's chest.  
  
Heero rolled out behind Wufei and shot McGuire in the forehead.  
  
The man fell heavily, rolling down the steps and landing in a boneless, unseeing heap at the foot of the staircase.  
  
"Holy shit!" hissed Wufei, running to scoop up his gun and running up the stairs two at a time, Heero close behind him.  
  
"Go!" said Heero, as Wufei reached the top of the landing and kicked what was left of the door aside.  
  
A volley of shots went past their heads and Heero turned, as Wufei shot Slim in the right shoulder, and the gun dropped nervelessly from his hand. Slim shrieked and dropped to his knees, unconscious.  
  
"Heero!" called Wufei. "Find Quatre and Trowa, they're not here."  
  
He quickly cut Treize bonds with a knife from a leg sheath and pulled him to his feet. "Where are Quatre and Trowa?" he asked breathlessly.  
  
"Come on," Treize said, leading them to the back of the apartment. Relena's eyes were wide with fear, and she ran over and threw herself over Zechs prone form, in a belated attempt to shield him.  
  
Marron stepped out of the back room, holding Quatre around the neck, a gun pressed to his temple.  
  
"Stop there, or I send your friend to paradise," he stated coldly.  
  
Wufei stopped and held up his hands.  
  
"Drop your gun," ordered Marron.  
  
"You won't get out of here alive," said Wufei. He glanced fleetingly over at Heero, who was concealed behind a table in an alcove in the hallway. Quatre's eyes caught the brief motion to his right.  
  
"Neither will your friends," snarled Marron, tightening his hold on Quatre's neck, causing him to gasp.  
  
Heero had his revolver trained on Marron, but was unable to shoot because of his proximity to Quatre. Suddenly Quatre's knees buckled and he went limp in Marron's grasp. Marron cursed, trying to hold on to the blond's sagging form as he slid to the floor.  
  
A shot rang out and Marron jerked as Heero's bullet went through his temple, falling heavily on top of Quatre's prone form. Wufei gave Treize a startled look.  
  
"Well, don't just stand there, 'Fei, get this bastard off of me!" grated Quatre, struggling underneath the man's heavy body. "That woman has Trowa in there!"  
  
Treize rolled Marron's body off of Quatre, who jumped to his feet and flung himself against the locked bedroom door.  
  
A shot was heard from inside and Quatre looked frantically at Wufei. Wufei handed Treize his revolver and yelling at the top of his lungs, kicked in the door with one adrenaline fueled flying kick.  
  
"Trowa!" Quatre shouted. "Answer me!"  
  
"I'm all right," came Trowa's calm reply from inside the room, as Heero, Wufei and Treize all came into the room. He was kneeling over a prone form, his shirt off. Quatre ran over and knelt beside him, looking inquiringly into his face. Trowa shook his head, holding his shirt against the wound in Une's neck.  
  
Une lay on the floor, her revolver a few paces from her outstretched hand. Heero went over and picked up the revolver, sticking it in the waistband of his jeans. A long deep slash from her neck to her collarbone was bleeding profusely as Trowa held his shirt against it.  
  
"Treize," she murmured, as the red-haired man knelt on the bloody carpet next to her head.  
  
"I'll help you," said Treize, nodding at Trowa as he pressed his own hand against the bleeding wound.  
  
"Sorry," she said, her eyes glazing over as she slid into unconsciousness.  
  
"Me too," whispered Treize.  
  
"We need an ambulance here now," said Wufei.  
  
"There's a satellite phone there in her pack," said Quatre, pointing at the pack Une had on her back, now lying against a chair.  
  
Wufei reached inside and came out with the yellow phone. He punched in 911.  
  
Relena came in, looking around anxiously. "Is it all over?" she asked, holding her still bound hands in front of her.  
  
"Yes," said Heero tersely, coming over and cutting the leather straps with his commando knife.  
  
"Thank God!" she said, flinging her arms around Heero, who stood still with widened eyes and looked over at Wufei.  
  
"Relena Darlian, meet Heero Yuy," said Treize, still holding the impromptu bandage against an unconscious Une's neck.  
  
"I've never been so glad to meet anyone in my life," said Relena, releasing him and holding out her hand.  
  
"You're welcome," said Heero politely, and bowed slightly, ignoring her offered hand.  
  
Relena knitted her brows and shrugged, going over to Treize.  
  
"Strange fellow," she murmured, giving Treize a puzzled look.  
  
"Yes, but an excellent shot," said Treize, smiling at her.  
  
"A helicopter is coming to take the wounded to emergency," said Wufei, shutting off the phone.  
  
"What about the FBI?" said Heero.  
  
"I think they should be showing up any minute," said Wufei. "They had to have noticed those shots."  
  
"You know we're in deep shit," said Heero to Wufei, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Yeah, but we did it," said Wufei, grinning briefly at the other man and shrugging unconcernedly.  
  
"Here, let me do that," said Relena to Treize. "You go be with Mil, he needs you." She pushed his hands away and held the bloody shirt to Une's wound.  
  
Treize nodded gratefully and left the room.  
  
"I have to call Sally," said Wufei to Heero. "She needs to know we're all right."  
  
Loud footsteps where heard then.  
  
"FBI!" said Hastings voice loudly from the top of the stairs. "Throw down your weapons and come out!"  
  
Heero shook his head. "You want to talk to them, or should I?" he asked Wufei.  
  
"I'll do it," said Quatre, suddenly. "Come on, Trowa, let's go negotiate."  
  
Trowa shook his head, saying nothing, and followed him out of the room. 


	28. Chapter Twentyeight

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Action, Suspense Parings: 13x6, 1x2, 3x4, 5xS Warnings: AU, Yaoi, Citrus, Language, Violence Rating: R Archived: GWFF, S_E Updates, SDQB, FF.net  
  
Chapter 28  
  
Hastings frowned across the table at the two men in front of him.  
  
"You realize that your actions could have resulted in the death of your friends," he said, folding his arms.  
  
"But it didn't," said Heero, looking up at the FBI agent from under long ragged dark brown bangs.  
  
"You were damn lucky," growled Hastings. "That's all."  
  
"If you have any charges, file them, read me my rights, and arrest my ass" said Heero. "Otherwise, put up or shut up and let us the hell out of here."  
  
"Technically, you're both in violation of some minor statutes," said Hastings, crumpling an empty coffee cup and tossing it into the trash in the corner of the sheriff's office.  
  
Wufei, who had said nothing until now, cleared his throat. "But?" he said, hearing the hesitation in the agent's voice.  
  
"You know damn well that if I nail you with some piddly-ass charges for what you did, I'll have the media vultures screaming down on my neck for months!" said a frustrated Hastings.  
  
"God knows The Bureau gets enough shitty press as it is," he sighed. "I've been ordered by higher ups to develop a sudden case of amnesia. This interrogation is officially over. You can both go."  
  
Heero stood up. "Too bad, I was looking forward to suing your balls off in court," he said, stretching his back until it audibly popped.  
  
Wufei nodded, and tried not to grin. "I don't think you need anymore balls, Heero," he deadpanned as he too stood up to leave.  
  
"What I need about two days worth of sleep," grumbled Heero as they stepped outside of the sheriff's office into the bright summer noon sun.  
  
"I see our ride is here," smiled Wufei as Sally pulled up to the curb in a red SUV.  
  
"Scoot over, Matt, so Heero can get in," she said to the boy in the back seat.  
  
Wufei slid into the passenger side.  
  
"So, what happened?" asked Sally, pulling away from the curb.  
  
"We're officially back in the clean world," said Heero. "No charges, case closed."  
  
"Well, that's a relief," said Sally. "I'd hate to have to wait for you to get out of prison." She grinned at Wufei.  
  
"Please, just take me somewhere I can get some sleep," groaned Wufei. "You know it's bad when 3 cups of coffee just make you sleepier."  
  
"Heero, I'm dropping you off at Duo's, and you're coming home with me, mister," said Sally to Wufei.  
  
He nodded, lying back on the seat and closing his eyes.  
  
"I called the hospital, it looks like Zechs is going to be fine," said Sally. "The delay in treating his wound caused a minor infection, but he's recovering nicely now that he's been cared for."  
  
"I'm glad to hear that," said Wufei, his eyes still closed.  
  
"Treize has already got repairmen working to restore some of the damage at the inn, which all things considered, wasn't too bad," she went on.  
  
"The FBI agents told me that your weapons will be returned to you after some forensics are run on them," said Heero to Sally.  
  
Sally nodded. "Well, here we are," she said, pulling into Duo's driveway.  
  
"Let me know if you need anything," said Sally as Heero slowly climbed out of the car.  
  
"Just sleep," said Heero wearily. "And Duo to come home."  
  
He held up a hand in farewell as Sally drove off, then turned to the door.  
  
"Rusty!" he called, opening the gate to the back fence. 90 lbs of eager canine jumped at him. He sat down on the grass and buried his face in Rusty's soft golden brown fur.  
  
"Nice to be home," he said with a sigh.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Sally pulled up in the driveway of her house a few minutes later.  
  
"Wufei, wake up," she reached over and touched him on the shoulder.  
  
"Sorry, dozed off," he said, passing a hand over his face.  
  
"I'm not surprised," said Sally sympathetically. "Let's get you inside."  
  
Wufei looked up. "Sally, did you leave the back gate open?"  
  
"No," she said, puzzled. "I wonder who left that open. Did you do that, Matt?"  
  
"No Mom," said Matt. "I came out of the front door with you."  
  
"Stay inside the car," said Wufei, frowning. "I'll check it out."  
  
"You're just jumpy," protested Sally. "Matt, stay inside the car and I'll go with Wufei and make sure everything is all right, okay?"  
  
They got out of the car. "Probably just the neighbor kids wanting to see if Matt can play," explained Sally, as she went in the back yard and closed the gate behind her.  
  
"Wrong, bitch," said a voice behind her, grabbing for her arm and pinning her against him.  
  
"Sanderson!" ground out Wufei between his teeth.  
  
"Yeah, I was hoping to meet your friend Yuy, but I guess I'll have to do him later," said Sanderson, pushing a gun against Sally's head.  
  
"You can't just shoot us in broad daylight surrounded by neighbors," hissed Sally. "You'll never get away with it!"  
  
"I got screwed out of my share of the take, so I ain't got a lot to lose at this point," said the blond man with a snarl.  
  
"Wrong, bitch," Sally said, and stomped down hard on the man's instep, planting her elbow solidly into his throat at the same time, twisting expertly and breaking his hold. A rasping scream broke from his throat and then was choked off as he slumped to the ground clawing at his throat, unable to inhale.  
  
Sally reached down and stepped down hard on his wrist, pulling the revolver from the man's now limp hand.  
  
"I hate it when people call me bitch," she panted.  
  
"That was amazing," Wufei said, looking a little dazed.  
  
"I didn't even get a chance to react, crazy woman! Are you all right?"  
  
"Shit, now we need to call the sheriff again," Sally sighed.  
  
"I'll watch this asshole, you go," he said, taking the revolver from her and training it on Sanderson's unconscious body.  
  
"I love a woman who can kick ass," sighed Wufei, watching her go into the house. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"You're looking much better," said Hilde, looking over at Heero. They were in Hilde's car, on their way to bring Duo home from the hospital.  
  
"It's amazing what 8 hours of sleep and people not shooting at you will do," said Heero wryly.  
  
They pulled up into the hospital parking lot, got out of the car and went inside.  
  
Duo was waiting in his room, sitting in a wheelchair.  
  
"Can you believe that I have to be wheeled outta here?" he said, resting his chin on his hand with a look of consternation on his gamin features.  
  
"You'll live," grunted Heero, walking around and taking the handles of the chair.  
  
"I'm thrilled to see you too, lover," said Duo turning around and raising an eyebrow. "At least Hilde will give me hug, won't cha, sis?" Duo put on his most appealing puppy dog expression.  
  
"I think Heero has your number," said Hilde, teasing him. "You are kind of an attention hog."  
  
"Hey, I'm a wounded person here," pouted Duo. "Major owies." He pointed at his arm that was plastered up to his shoulder.  
  
"Quit pretending like I never pay any attention to you," said Heero, pushing him through the hallway to the exit.  
  
"Quit pretending like you're not all a-tingle to see me," smirked Duo.  
  
"I'm all a-tingle to see you," repeated Heero deadpan, as he leaned over and helped Duo to his feet outside of the hospital doors.  
  
"Okay, now I know why the chair," said Duo. "Woozy!" he exclaimed, leaning heavily against Heero.  
  
"You've been in bed for a week," said Hilde, "What did you expect? I'll go get the car."  
  
"Better now," said Duo, looking at Heero as helped him into the back seat and then climbed in beside him.  
  
"Ever make out in the back seat of a car with a guy in a cast?" asked Duo, grinning at him.  
  
"No," replied Heero, raising an eyebrow at him. "But I suppose there's a first time for everything."  
  
"Hey, at least wait until I get you home!" protested Hilde, laughing.  
  
"You're no fun," Duo complained. "Just drive and don't look in the rear view mirror."  
  
"I'll try," said Hilde, then burst into laughter again.  
  
"I really missed you, baka," whispered Heero, leaning over and pulling Duo towards him.  
  
"I really missed you too," said Duo softly, reaching up with his good hand and cupping Heero's face.  
  
"I'm so sorry you were hurt," said Heero, placing his own hand over Duo's.  
  
"Quit saying that," chided Duo gently. "There's no need to blame yourself for what happened. It's not as though you dragged me into this kicking and screaming."  
  
"You could have been killed," whispered Heero pressing his forehead against Duo's.  
  
"But, I'm alive," Duo said, smiling at him. "I don't waste my time with regrets, and I don't blame the wrong people. Life is too damn short for what ifs."  
  
"You're right," said Heero simply, taking his hand and placing a kiss in the palm.  
  
"I still haven't heard the whole story about how you took out the bad guys," said Hilde, clearing her throat.  
  
"Me neither, come to think of it," said Duo, looking inquiringly at Heero.  
  
"We got guns, we went in, we shot them," said Heero, shrugging.  
  
"We have got to work on your communication skills," sighed Duo, wrapping his good arm around him and giving him a squeeze.  
  
"Well, the FBI came in after that," added Heero helpfully.  
  
Duo groaned with laughter and rolled his eyes. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"I hate to say this, sir, but visitor's hours are over," said the nurse, coming into Mils hospital room.  
  
Treize smiled charmingly at her. "I'd love to have just 15 more minutes, please," he said.  
  
The nurse blushed and smiled back. "I'm sure it won't hurt anything," she said, turning around to leave.  
  
"Does anyone ever say no to you?" asked Mil, a tired smile flitting across his face.  
  
"Not lately," said Treize, sitting back down on the edge of the bed.  
  
"It really is all right to leave me," Mil assured him, reaching over and grabbing his hand. "I'll be home soon. Probably about the same time as all the damage to the inn is repaired."  
  
"They still haven't caught Reynaud," frowned Treize.  
  
"But they will," said Mil, pulling him closer to gaze into his eyes. "It's only a matter of time."  
  
"In the meantime, I've got private security outside your door 24 hours a day," said Treize.  
  
"I'd rather have you here 24 hours a day," said Mil, ice blue meeting the darker cerulean.  
  
"We can't live our lives in fear of that maniac," said Treize. "And we're not going to, but that doesn't mean I'll be foolish." He took a deep breath.  
  
"Reynaud is on the run now," he continued. "And he's lost much of his support in the underground, according to what Agent Morris told me the other day. It's a matter of time before he's cornered and caught like the animal he is."  
  
"I know one thing," said Mil, adjusting himself against the pillows so that his long platinum pony tail hung over one shoulder, "I'm not going to hide anymore. I spent so many years living in fear of Les Noire, and they've done their worst. Relena, you and I deserve a halfway normal life, dammit!"  
  
"Personally, I think 'normal' is overrated," said Treize, smiling roguishly at him.  
  
"You know what I mean," said Mil, rolling his eyes. It was impossible not to smile back, in spite of the dull ache in his side.  
  
"Don't make me laugh, I'll tear my stitches," he warned.  
  
"Should I call the nurse?" asked Treize, a pucker of worry collecting between his brows. "You're not in pain, are you?"  
  
"Nothing serious," said Mil, "and I'm not up to the night nurse yet. I swear she was trained in personal relations by the Mafia." He scowled and tugged on his hospital gown.  
  
Treize' laugh rang out. "You'll be out of here by the end of the week, my poor love, if I have to kidnap you myself," he said, bending down and placing a chaste kiss on Mil's brow.  
  
"Oh, what a tease," complained Mil, pulling him down for a proper kiss on the mouth.  
  
"I'm not that incapacitated, and I'm definitely not dead."  
  
"I have to admit, you look pretty luscious for a man with a hole in his side," said Treize, raising his brows and leering.  
  
There was a knock at the door. "Mr. Merquise, it's time for your pain medication," a good-looking young dark-haired male nurse came in with a hypodermic.  
  
"I thought the night nurse was a she," commented Treize, looking askance at Mil.  
  
"So did I," muttered Mil, shrugging his eyebrows at Treize.  
  
"Shift changes in the middle of the week," said the man, smiling at him and holding up a hypodermic. "I'll just pop this into your I.V. and you'll be in dreamland before you know it, sweetie."  
  
Mil's eyes widened. "Maybe you'd better stick around," he said to Treize.  
  
"Oh, I'm definitely sticking around," said Treize, giving the nurse the evil eye.  
  
"All the cute ones are taken," sighed the man, grinning, and opening the valve to Mil's I.V. to allow the medication to flow.  
  
"I can hardly wait for the sponge bath," he said, giving Mil a friendly pat on the leg and winking in a teasing fashion.  
  
"Get me out of here," whispered Mil loudly, glaring at the nurse.  
  
Treize laughed. "I'll see what I can do," he said.  
  
"I'm just giving you a bad time," said the nurse, grinning at both of them. "I'll be nice, I promise."  
  
"Call me if you need anything," he nurse, dimming the lights before he left the room.  
  
"Great, now instead of Nurse Ratchett, I've got Nurse Horny Bastard wanting to give me a sponge bath every five minutes," grumbled Mil.  
  
"You'll survive," said Treize. "I'll come by and make sure you're protected from the big bad gay nurse. Although who can blame him, you do look rather cute and vulnerable lying there in your half a nightgown."  
  
"I swear this place is designed to make you want to get better by torturing you," said the blond man slurring a little as the pain medication did it's work.  
  
"Goodnight, baby," said Treize, leaning down and kissing him again on the forehead. "Sweet dreams."  
  
"Um,night," said Mil, his eyes closing as he surrendered to the sleep- inducing effects of the drug.  
  
Treize sat there for another half-hour watching him sleep peacefully, until he finally walked down the hallway and outside into the starlit Montana evening.  
  
TBC 


	29. Chapter Twentynine

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Action, Suspense Pairings: 13x6, 1x2, 3x4, 5xS Warnings: Violence, Yaoi, AU, Language Rating: R Archived: FF.net, S_E Updates, GWFF, SDQB  
  
Chapter 29  
  
"How would you and Matt like to go to Canada with me for a month while I work on a movie?" asked Wufei. He was sitting out on the deck in the early morning sunshine after breakfast.  
  
"Canada?" asked Sally.  
  
"Disappointed it's not Bermuda?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"No, Canada is fine," said Sally.  
  
"A lot of movies are shot in Toronto," Wufei explained. "Looks like New York only cheaper and cleaner.  
  
"Oh," said Sally. "What about my job?"  
  
"Well, its going to be a while before they open the inn again, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes," she replied, "About a month, I suppose."  
  
"And, in six weeks, Duo could probably fill in for you, I imagine."  
  
"Yes," she said, looking at him, "He could."  
  
"And, I could probably get you work on the movie set, a good personal trainer is always in demand."  
  
"There's a thought," said Sally, moving closer to him and sliding an arm around his waist.  
  
"What about my house?"  
  
"Close it up, rent it, whatever you want to do."  
  
"I could do that," she conceded. "Now for the big question, what do I tell Matt about all of this?"  
  
"Try giving him that talk about when two people love each other very much."  
  
"He already knows that," said Sally, putting a finger to his lips.  
  
"Well, then what's the big deal?"  
  
"I'm not talking about the sex thing, I'm talking about the living together slash sleeping in the same room slash clearing out a drawer for your underwear and you getting half the closet thing."  
  
"Ah."  
  
"Yes, that 'ah'.  
  
"Well, we could have a nice wedding with all of our friends there after I do this movie. Unless you want a Las Vegas quickie at an drive up chapel with a minister dressed like Elvis."  
  
"Uh, no thank you."  
  
"I hope that was refusing the Las Vegas option, not the proposal."  
  
"It was."  
  
"I figured."  
  
"Pretty arrogant of you."  
  
"It's a failing, I know."  
  
"It's kind of cute, actually."  
  
"You're a crazy woman."  
  
"I just proved that by saying 'yes' didn't I?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"I need another vacation," said Quatre, hanging his head off the side of the bed in Duo's guestroom. "Our first one was a real stinker."  
  
"It was fine up until that whole kidnapping/being tied up part," agreed Trowa, who was sitting on the bed next to him, trying to wake up.  
  
"Speaking of being tied up," purred Quatre, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.  
  
"I am not into bondage before breakfast," said Trowa, yawning and scratching his chest. "You know I'm not a morning person."  
  
"Ah, you're no fun," pouted Quatre.  
  
"Not before coffee and large pieces of toast with butter and strawberry jam."  
  
"That sounds good, actually."  
  
"Then you can tie me up and have your way with me in a wanton fashion."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"I think I smell coffee. Please God, tell me I smell coffee."  
  
"Is that all you can think about?"  
  
"No, but it's a matter of priorities. Caffeine first, then carbohydrates, then tying up, then sex."  
  
"I smell blueberry something," sighed Quatre, inhaling deeply.  
  
"Heero must be up. Either that or I've gone into a stimulant deprived coma and am hallucinating," Trowa murmured.  
  
"No, it's Heero."  
  
"How can you tell?"  
  
"No burning smells coming from the kitchen."  
  
"I heard that!" said Duo, walking by their partly opened door.  
  
"Oh, good, Heero is making breakfast then," said Trowa.  
  
"You try cooking with one hand!" said Duo, as Quatre and Trowa made their way into the kitchen, both still in pajamas.  
  
"You can't cook with two hands," said Heero, flipping a blueberry pancake expertly.  
  
"I can make toast," said Duo defensively. "Even kids can make toast."  
  
"And Pop Tarts, I bet he can make those," said Quatre helpfully.  
  
"You're not helping," grumbled Duo. He went to the fridge and grabbed a Coke.  
  
"Do you need a pain pill?" asked Quatre solicitously.  
  
"No, but about four of those pancakes will do," said Duo, watching Heero flip another one and set it on a plate, his eyes never leaving the fragrant cake.  
  
"Must. have. coffee," said Trowa, leaning his forehead against the table in a pathetic fashion.  
  
"It's ready, I'll get it for you," said Quatre. Heero handed him 3 mugs from a nearby cupboard.  
  
"Trowa's not a morning person," explained Quatre.  
  
"We noticed," said Duo sarcastically. "Get your head out of the butter dish, Cyclops," he said to Trowa.  
  
Trowa picked up his head. "I love you, significant other," he said gratefully to Quatre, who was handing him a cup of coffee. He took a long gulp.  
  
"As long as you don't feel differently when the drug hits your bloodstream," said Quatre, sipping his own cup.  
  
"My love is as constant and as true as the northern star," said Trowa, taking another sip.  
  
"Wow, poetry," said Duo, impressed. "How come you never say things like that to me, Heero?"  
  
"I'm a lawyer, it's against my religion," said Heero dryly. "Besides, you'd rather have blueberry pancakes." He sat a large stack of them in front of Duo and handed him a fork.  
  
"True," said Duo, trying not to drool on his chin before he dug in with gusto.  
  
"Coke and pancakes?" asked Quatre, wrinkling his nose.  
  
"I don't criticize your pajamas, you don't criticize my breakfast," said Duo, looking at Quatre's Sponge Bob Squarepants yellow pajamas.  
  
"These are very fashionable," said Quatre, slightly miffed.  
  
"For who, teenaged girls?" asked Duo nastily.  
  
"I like them," said Trowa mildly.  
  
"I'm sure, yours have Daffy Duck on them."  
  
"Quatre bought them for me."  
  
"Why am I not surprised?"  
  
"Definitely time for Duo's pain meds," said Heero, bringing a bottle over and putting it down in front of Duo.  
  
"Those things knock me out," complained Duo.  
  
"We know," the other three men said in unison.  
  
"Okay, I'll be nice," grumbled Duo around a mouthful of pancakes.  
  
"So, Heero, you're staying here for certain?" asked Quatre, as a pancake was set in front of him.  
  
"I'm making arrangements to set up a small law practice here," he said, sitting down finally to enjoy his own breakfast.  
  
"I'll make sure we come back and visit you often," said Quatre.  
  
"What about Wufei?" asked Trowa.  
  
"I can handle a lot of his business from here," said Heero. "But Wufei told me after he fulfills all his current movie contracts, he's thinking of opening a school to teach Martial Arts and leading a more settled life."  
  
"I know, he offered me a position of assisting him with the school, if I'm interested," said Trowa.  
  
"It's something he's always wanted to do," Quatre, said, as he took a small bit of pancake. "He's talked about it often enough."  
  
"I for one would be glad for a less dangerous line of work," said Trowa.  
  
"No more walking across ceiling beams?" asked Duo cheekily.  
  
"Well, maybe for fun."  
  
"Don't even joke about that," said Quatre, waving a forkful of pancakes at him.  
  
"I wasn't joking. It is fun."  
  
"Adrenaline junkie."  
  
"I'll have to replace it with other equally exciting activities," said Trowa, reaching under the table and squeezing Quatre's thigh.  
  
"Duo, you're not eating," said Heero, cocking his head inquiringly at his braided companion.  
  
"I'm full," confessed Duo. "All this lying around is affecting my appetite."  
  
"Sure?" asked Heero shortly. He reached over and slid his arm around Duo's waist.  
  
"Not sleeping too well," said Duo, sighing.  
  
"I noticed."  
  
"I've never been shot before, I guess," said Duo, leaning on Heero's shoulder.  
  
"If you got used to it, I'd be worried," said Heero.  
  
"All the bad guys are gone, Duo," said Quatre.  
  
"What about that psycho Reynaud?" said Duo. "Isn't he still running around Europe somewhere?"  
  
"Running is a good description," said Heero. "From what little I was able to get out of the FBI, they've just about taken out his entire operation. He's disappeared for now, but he has little money, and almost no contacts left."  
  
"I guess its naïve to think one can live in total security," sighed Quatre, toying with the handle of his coffee cup.  
  
"It's not that kind of world," Trowa agreed. "But you can't let the bad guys win by virtue of fear."  
  
"I'll try to remember that," Duo said somberly.  
  
"Let's go for a ride," said Heero, standing up and pulling Duo up with him.  
  
"It's a beautiful day, we'll take Rusty down to the river and let him chase ducks. You want to come too?" he asked Quatre and Trowa.  
  
"Sure," said Trowa, smiling faintly. "We're still on vacation."  
  
Epilogue to follow. 


	30. Epilogue

Title: Exercising an Option  
  
Author: Gina Lin Genre: Romance, Action, Suspense Series: Gundam Wing Warnings: AU, Yaoi, Citrus, Violence, Language Pairings: 13x6, 1x2, 3x4, 5xS Archived: S_E Updates, FF.net. GWFF  
  
Epilogue  
  
One year later....  
  
"Are you sure you're up to this?" asked Mil, as he and Treize pulled up to the stark looking institutional complex surrounded by iron gates. The park- like landscaping did not detract from the bleak functional aspect of the architecture.  
  
"I owe her that much, at least," said the ginger-haired man, getting out of the car and pulling his fur-lined coat closely around him against the cutting November winds. Snow was sparsely frosting the ground and the trees were barren and gray. Only the stately pines retained their color amongst the stark blacks and whites of a winter landscape.  
  
"I'll come with you," said Milliard, buttoning his gray wool trenchcoat against the harsh northern winds so common this time of year.  
  
"What do her doctors say?" he asked Treize as they walked inside.  
  
"She has large gaps of memory caused by sudden blood loss to the brain," explained Treize. "Ironically, she believes that we're still the closest of friends and she is my loyal employee who had a terrible accident. She doesn't remember Marron, Reynaud or any of the other terrorists."  
  
"I remember she was excused from giving her deposition by the FBI. In a strange way, it's probably for the best."  
  
"I believe so, Mil. Her room is very nice, and someday, perhaps she can function in the real world."  
  
"She's still recovering physically, also?"  
  
"Yes, some minor paralysis on the left side," said Treize. They briefly checked in at the nurse's station and the nurse smiled at Treize's familiar face.  
  
"She's looking forward to your visit," said the nurse, a round faced maternal-looking woman. "Thank you so much for the lovely flowers, she really does appreciate them, and all the other small gifts."  
  
"It's nothing," said Treize. "This is my companion, Milliard. He's also a friend of Une's."  
  
"Oh, I'm sure she'll be delighted to see you. Poor thing, she doesn't get any other visitors. Such a lovely woman too."  
  
"I know," said Treize. "Perhaps we can make that up to her, Joyce," he said, looking at the nametag on the woman's uniform.  
  
"You take all the time you want," said Joyce. "I heard the doctors say that one day, she'll be ready for an outing."  
  
"Oh, really?" asked Treize. "That's wonderful news."  
  
They turned to walk down the polished hallways.  
  
"Here it is," said Treize. He knocked.  
  
"Come in!" said Une. She was sitting up in her wheelchair, wearing a red velour dressing gown, her hair in loose honey curls around her shoulders.  
  
"Treize!" she said, holding out her right hand. Treize took it warmly and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. A faint blush stained Une's cheeks.  
  
"Always such a gentleman," she murmured.  
  
"Mil has come with me, may he come in?" asked Treize.  
  
"Of course," she said, smiling. "I'm so happy to have another visitor."  
  
Mil came into the room. "Une, how lovely to see you up and doing so well," he said, and came over and took her offered hand.  
  
"Yes, I'm recovering from my accident slowly but surely," she said. "Perhaps someday, I can go home."  
  
"You know that when that day comes, you can come and stay with me," said Treize. "For as long as you want."  
  
"I know," she said, lowering her gaze. "I'm so fortunate to have such a wonderful friend."  
  
"You were always loyal and that should not go unrewarded," said Treize softly.  
  
"Would you like me to take you to the sun room for a change of scenery?" asked Treize. "I'm afraid it's too cold to venture outdoors, but at least we can enjoy this winter sunshine while it lasts."  
  
"I'd love to," said Une. "Perhaps you can read to me again. I so enjoy that."  
  
"My pleasure," said Treize, smiling down at her. "My lady, your carriage awaits!" he said with a flourish, taking the handles of her wheelchair.  
  
She laughed. "As long as the clock doesn't strike midnight and it becomes a pumpkin again, we'll be fine, my dear Treize."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"All right children, that's enough for today," said Wufei, folding his arms and surveying his last class.  
  
"Sensei?" asked a small blond boy with wire rimmed glasses in the front of the class, raising his hand.  
  
"What is it, Tyler?"  
  
"I need to stay here until my mom can come pick me up. She had to take my sister to ballet today."  
  
"All right, Tyler, I have to stay late anyway," said Wufei. "The rest of you are dismissed."  
  
Suddenly a room full of attentive, quiet children dressed in white erupted into shouting, laughter and roughhousing as they went to collect their assorted backpacks and change into street clothes in the locker rooms.  
  
"Come on Tyler," said Matt, who was trying to pull on his sneaker without untying it. "I'll show you something cool."  
  
"What?" said Tyler, looking at the other boy curiously.  
  
"My dad has a cool sword in his office. It's in a case with a lock on it, we can't touch it."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah, and he killed this really bad guy with it!"  
  
"Really?"  
  
"I heard him and my mom talking about it once."  
  
"Cool!"  
  
"Yeah, he won't mind if we look at it."  
  
They went inside the office. "Dad, Tyler wants to look at your sword."  
  
"All right," said Wufei, looking at some papers on his desk and glancing over the top of his reading glasses at the two boys.  
  
"Did you really kill a guy with it, Sensei?" asked Tyler, looking at the case.  
  
"Is that what Matt told you?" asked Wufei, setting down a sheaf of papers.  
  
"Yeah," said the boy.  
  
"It's true that once I used that sword to defend myself and a good friend of mine."  
  
"Wow," breathed Tyler.  
  
"That's why it's there, to remind me of that."  
  
"I bet it was cool, Sensei!" said Tyler, almost pressing his snubby freckled nose against the glass.  
  
"It was quite awful, to be honest," said Wufei seriously. "I hope I never have to do anything like that again."  
  
The boy looked at him and nodded. "But you weren't scared, were you, Sensei?"  
  
"My friend and I were very scared, Tyler, but we did what we had to do to stay alive. That is what makes a person brave."  
  
The two boys nodded. "Come on Ty," said Matt suddenly. "I'll race you to the locker room. Last one there has to sniff Vince Gardner's socks. He hasn't taken them home for two weeks!"  
  
"Nasty!" said Tyler. Matt turned and took off running.  
  
"Hey, no fair, you cheated!" protested Tyler as he ran hot on Matt's heels.  
  
Wufei smiled as he heard familiar footsteps in the hallway. He took off his glasses and set them on the desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose.  
  
"Well, Sensei, how was class today?" asked Sally, coming into the office.  
  
"Not bad, I think a few of the older students will do well at tournament in a few months."  
  
She leaned over the desk and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  
  
"What was that for?" he asked, putting his glasses back on and picking up the next paper.  
  
"What are those?" she asked him, ignoring his question.  
  
"New applications," he said. "I just hope we have enough room in the schedule to accommodate all the new students."  
  
"Can Trowa take on more students?" she asked.  
  
"Perhaps a few," he said, frowning a bit. "I may have to look around for a new instructor."  
  
"I do wish I could help out," Sally said. "But, I'm in no condition for high kicks, I'm afraid. I haven't even seen my feet in 2 months."  
  
"We'll find someone," he said, reaching over and placing a hand briefly on the roundness of her stomach.  
  
"Ready to go home?" she said. "I'm starving and my feet are killing me."  
  
"We're waiting for Tyler's mom to pick up his sister from ballet," said Wufei.  
  
"Ah, I see," said Sally. "Well, then, I'm going to plant my rather large self on the sofa here and hope I can get back up later."  
  
"I'll bring in a block and tackle," said Wufei, arching an eyebrow at her and grinning.  
  
"Not funny," she said, mock pouting at him.  
  
"Sorry," he said. "I couldn't resist."  
  
"The least you could do is come over here and rub my feet," she said. "After all, this is all your fault."  
  
"I'm sure I'll be hearing that again," he said, taking off his glasses again and coming to sit beside her on the sofa in his office.  
  
"Duo and Heero are still coming next week, aren't they?" asked Sally, sighing as talented fingers plied her feet.  
  
"As far as a I know," said Wufei. "Heero has some business he needs to do here in LA."  
  
"It'll be nice to see them again," said Sally.  
  
"Do you miss Montana?" asked Wufei, taking her other foot and rubbing it.  
  
"Not really," said Sally. "Just my friends, sometimes."  
  
"Noin said she'd come after the baby is born," she continued. "She's going to help me take care of Matt so you can be here at the dojo."  
  
"I still intend to be around," said Wufei. "After all, I think getting to know our new son is more important than shuffling papers. Quatre said he'd help out with some of the office work for a while."  
  
"You don't think Matt will be jealous of his little brother, do you?" asked Sally, rubbing her belly.  
  
"Matt is a great kid," said Wufei. "And he has no reason to be jealous. I love both my sons."  
  
"Have I told you lately what a nice man you are?" asked Sally.  
  
"No, not nearly enough," he said, taking her hand and kissing it.  
  
"Sensei!" came Tyler's voice through the door of the office after a short knock. "My mom's here!"  
  
"Good-bye Tyler," said Sally.  
  
"Good-bye Mrs. Chang!" said Tyler.  
  
"Good-bye," said Wufei, as Matt came in the office.  
  
"Mom, are we gonna go home now? I'm hungry and I'll miss Digimon if we don't go home now!"  
  
"No one ever starved to death in 15 minutes, Matt," said Sally, as Wufei helped her off of the sofa. "And we'll try to get home in time for Digimon."  
  
"Hey Dad, can Tyler come over and play tomorrow after school?" asked Matt.  
  
"If it's all right with his mother, of course," said Wufei.  
  
"Cool, I'll call him and ask tonight," said Matt.  
  
"After you do your homework," said Wufei.  
  
"Ah, Da-add," said Matt. "That sucks!"  
  
"You know the rules," said Wufei. "Homework first, then phone calls to friends and goofing off."  
  
"Okay," said Matt reluctantly. "Homework first."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Is that him?" asked Hastings, pulling back the sheet in the morgue.  
  
"Yeah, as good as I can tell," said Slim, held between two deputies with his legs and hands cuffed. "I only saw Reynaud in person once."  
  
"Thank you," said Morris, "We'll be sure that your cooperation will be noted in our report."  
  
"Thanks," mumbled the lank-haired blond, shifting uncomfortably in his orange prison coveralls.  
  
"So, what happened to him?" asked Slim. "I thought he was some sort of untouchable the way that Marron always talked."  
  
"No one knows," said Morris. "The body was found alongside the runway at Orly, the Paris International Airport. We know he'd tried to purchase a ticket to Buenos Aires the night before with a false passport and that's all."  
  
"Probably just pissed off the wrong guy," shrugged Hastings. "Law of the jungle is that no matter how bad ass you think you are, there's always a badder ass out there."  
  
"Tell me about it," said Slim.  
  
"You may take the prisoner now," said Hastings to the armed guards. One of the guards nodded and they led Slim out of the room.  
  
"Well, I guess we can close that file," said Morris, stretching her long arms over her head.  
  
"Yeah, a few people going to rest easier tonight knowing this asshole is worm food," said Hastings, motioning to the attendant to put the body back in it's cooler.  
  
"Nice epitaph," said Morris sarcastically, sliding her shoulder holster back into place as they left the morgue.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Is that the phone ringing?" asked Quatre sleepily.  
  
"You answer it," said Trowa, swallowing dryly. "It's on your side."  
  
"I knew you were going to say that."  
  
"Hey, I didn't put the phone there."  
  
"I bet its Wufei!" said Quatre. "Who else would be calling us at 4:00 in the morning?" He switched on the bedside lamp.  
  
"An insomniac obscene phone caller?"  
  
"Ha ha," said Quatre, picking up the phone. "Hello?"  
  
"Really, that's great news, Wufei,!" said Quatre after a few minutes.  
  
"All right, take care, we'll see you in a few hours. Good-bye now."  
  
"They had the kid, right?" asked Trowa, rolling back over and punching his pillow.  
  
"Yes, a week early, but everything's fine. Boy, named Evan. But we knew that."  
  
"Good, can I go back to sleep now?"  
  
"Don't you want to know how much the baby weighs and all that?" asked Quatre.  
  
"He's going to weigh the same in 3 or 4 hours, I bet," said Trowa dryly. "I can handle the suspense."  
  
"You're so unsentimental sometimes," said Quatre, turning off the bedside light.  
  
"Yes, especially at four in the morning."  
  
"Go back to sleep."  
  
"Yes, dear."  
  
The End 


End file.
